Nana
by Ne Quittez Pas
Summary: The longer I lay on the table, the more certain I was that I was going to die... And I did. Again, and again, and again. Unfortunately, Doctor Ichigaki didn't let it stick. Very eventual KuramaxOC. Now rewritten.
1. Seven Ways to Die

_Almost there._

It was the only thought running through my head. Nothing else mattered. My mind was quiet but for that thought, repeating over and over like a mantra, steady as the beat of my heart, matching every footfall. I pushed myself harder, faster.

I could do this. I was _almost there_!

The effect shattered as soon as I crossed the finish line. All the sounds I was ignoring—the cheers of my teammates, the heaving of my own breath—rushed back in as I slowed to a stop.

"Time?"

Hikari Sato, the _kohai_ who'd been in charge of timing the run, gave me an apologetic look. "5 minutes, 10 seconds."

"Damn it!" I'd been chasing the goal of a 5-minute mile for a year now. Not only had I not achieved it today, I hadn't even matched my previous record. "And I had such a good feeling about today…"

"Only _you_ would complain about such a good time," Mae Fujita snorted, stretching out her arms as she walked off the run. She'd finished just after I had, and was the only other third-year on the track team this year. All the others had given up club activities to focus more time on studying for entrance exams. Mae, who intended to start working at her family's flower shop after high school, didn't feel the need to study. I, on the other hand, needed the stress relief of a good run if in order to focus on schoolwork.

I shrugged exaggeratedly. "A good time for _you_ , maybe..."

"Oh, shove it, Nakano." Mae rolled her eyes at my teasing, and I suppressed my smile. "Are you coming to karaoke today?"

Karaoke was a Saturday post-practice tradition for the track team, and any other day I would have gone, but—

"I can't today." Casually, I pulled my right foot up for a quick hamstring stretch. "I've got a movie date."

Sato, who'd apparently been listening, gasped excitedly. "With who?"

Mae wasn't fooled for a second. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms. "I thought you weren't dating until you graduated."

"It's a double date." I switched legs, sighing in contentment at the stretch and letting the curious tension build a little bit more before ending the ruse. "Me, Naoko, and _Zombie Boyfriends From Hell_."

Sato paled, looking simultaneously disappointed and ill. Mae, having gone to school with me for over two years, was well-used to my antics and just shook her head in exasperation. "I don't understand how you can watch those movies."

"I don't understand why you _don't_ ," I shot back easily as we all headed back towards the locker rooms. "Tests and homework are much less scary when you watch _true_ horror."

Naoko's music club activities wrapped up before mine did, so she was already waiting by the school gates by the time I'd changed out of my track uniform. Her nose was buried in one of the cheesy romance mangas she liked to pretend she didn't read. Her cheeks were flushed a light rosy pink, and she was so absorbed she didn't even notice me approaching.

I waited a good minute for her to notice me before I finally coughed softly. Naoko jumped, wide-eyed, and shoved the manga in her school bag, lightning-quick. Before I could open my mouth to tease her about her reading material, though, she cut me off with an exuberant, "Congratulations!"

I shut my mouth. Blinked. Thought. I hadn't beaten my best time on the track, and even if I had, there's no way Naoko could have known about it before I got out to meet her. Finally, puzzled, I asked, "On what?"

"I saw you got the top score on the science exam," Naoko adjusted her bag on her shoulder and pushed off the wall, walking out the school gate. "You even beat Ishida this time."

"Did I really?" I remembered being pleased with my score, but I hadn't paid attention to the rankings. Akihito Ishida was the representative for Class A, and he and I had been neck and neck on exam results all throughout high school. "I don't usually beat him on science exams. I guess that explains why he was glaring at me earlier…"

"Right, right." Naoko smiled up at the leaves on one of the trees which stood by the school gate. " _Glaring_." She looked at me, then, like I was being slow to pick up on something. Unused to being on the _receiving_ end of such a look, I furrowed my brow.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Naoko flapped a hand in the air to dismiss the topic, shaking her head, though a smile still played at her lips. Before I could press her further, she changed the topic, beginning a long, detailed recounting of her day. Topics covered included the top five reasons why her brother was a huge brat, an update on which of our classmates had gotten together or been dumped in the past week, and a lengthy, impassioned rant about the uselessness of poetry.

This was why I liked Naoko. I could easily envision her being the most popular girl in our class—she was exceptionally pretty, made good grades, and could play the flute like an angel. But she also liked to talk, and held next to nothing back when she did.

It scared a lot of other people off, but I loved her for it. I often got sick of people being overly polite, never saying what they actually thought. Other people would hint at what they meant, instead of saying it, insisting on doing everything in some roundabout way out of a sense of politeness. I never had to worry about that with Naoko.

"We've still got an hour before the movie," Naoko observed, checking her watch, then pointing at the arcade adjoining the theater. "Wanna hit up the games while we wait?"

I shrugged and followed her into the arcade. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the arcade, but once accustomed I began automatically scanning the rows of machines for Tetris, one of the only games I was actually good at. Naoko snagged my arm before I could escape, though.

"They have Goblin City!" She was tugging me over to a game, rummaging in her bag for coins with her other hand. "You _have_ to help me with this one. Takuo's got in on his console at home, and I can never beat it. I always get a quiz game or a puzzle game and it knocks me out."

Takuo was Naoko's little brother, and his enthusiasm for the game did not inspire my confidence. I peered at the machine skeptically, taking in the over-the-top artwork. It all looked very sword-and-sorcerer. "It looks like one of those cheesy side-scroller dungeon games."

Naoko shook her head, putting in coins to start the game. "It's got a bit of everything _but_ sidescrolling. That's what makes it so fun." She pressed start, and the opening animation played, welcoming us to Goblin City and informing us that our seven heroes had to beat the Goblin King to free the town. "Takuo can't even beat me all the time, because it has a bunch of mini games even _he's_ not good at."

"Does seven heroes mean seven lives?" I asked. On screen, the Goblin King was spinning a wheel to determine the first mini game.

"No, it's the best of seven. Lose four mini games, and you lose the game." The wheel stopped spinning, and Naoko grinned. "Yes, a racing game!"

Naoko beat the racing game easily, but then lost a tennis game and a shooting game back to back. "Are you _sure_ you got close to beating this?" I teased her as the animated Goblin King mocked her and announced that it was his turn now.

"Oh, shut up." The next game was a quiz game, and Naoko groaned. "Ugh, like I don't get enough of quizzes at school. Hey, which of these isn't a noble gas?"

" _Fe_. That's iron." I managed to refrain from adding that that was obvious. With my assistance, Naoko was able to win the quiz game. She lost the fighting game that followed by a narrow margin, putting the score at 3 to 3. The Goblin King spun the wheel for the final time, and Naoko watched it intently, fingers drumming on the plastic near the controls.

"Three Seven!" The Goblin King announced. Naoko sighed and stepped aside as the Goblin King added a few more insults about her intelligence, nodding at the controls.

"Quick, you take over."

"What's Three Seven?" I asked, reluctantly taking control of the joystick.

"It's like Tetris, but with math." Naoko said, in the tone of voice one might use to describe a particularly unappetizing vegetable. "You'll do great."

I _did_ do great, once I got the hang of the rules for eliminating blocks. It was quite a bit more challenging than Tetris, though. If the game had lasted any longer than a minute, I probably would have lost, but I was able to clear enough blocks to beat the Goblin King by a hair.

"Yes! Teamwork!" Naoko cheered as the ending animation played, depicting the Goblin King's grisly death at the hands of our seven heroes. "And look, we made the leaderboard!"

She was technically correct, but only just. "The _bottom_ of the leaderboard."

"Shut up, we're awesome." Naoko's smile wouldn't quit. "Go on, put our names in."

I considered the limited space for a moment, before typing in an amalgam. It only seemed fitting, since we'd beaten the game together. Naoko read the result over my shoulder.

"RENAOKO. I like it." She checked her watch and grinned. "Are you ready for _Zombie Boyfriends From Hell_?"

Though the title and marketing for the movie had been campy, the movie itself played the horror pretty straight. The special effects were particularly well done, and the result was that _Zombie Boyfriends From Hell_ was arguably the scariest movie I'd ever seen.

This didn't affect me much personally, but Naoko left the theater looking pale and jittery. She kept looking around, like she was concerned someone was trying to sneak up on her.

"Are you okay?"

Naoko flinched a little at my question, but she tried to play it off, waving off my concern. "Fine, fine! That was nothing—" But her denials were cut off when some drunken salarymen burst into raucous laughter halfway down the block. The sudden noise startled her so much that she jumped half a foot in the air, clutching at her heart with wide eyes.

"Yeah, okay, scaredy-cat." I linked my arm with hers securely, shooting her a reassuring smile. "Let me walk you home before you have a heart attack."

It showed how much the movie had gotten to her that Naoko didn't even protest. Instead she sighed, looking embarrassed, but grateful. "Thank you."

"We're already being smarter than the protagonists of the movie," I observed, keeping my voice light as we left the shopping district and headed through residential neighborhoods. I hoped making fun of the movie would put Naoko a little more at ease. "I mean—going into the basement? Alone?"

"Right?!" Naoko was only too happy to join in. "That's, like, rule number one!"

"And I don't know about you, but I think not telling your girlfriend you've been bitten by a zombie is a dumpable offense."

By the time I got her home, Naoko was doing better. The tension in her shoulders and around her eyes had dissipated, and she was smiling easily again. I stopped at her house's garden gate and raised an eyebrow at the short walk to her front door.

"Think you can make it alone from here?"

"Ha, ha. I think I'll be fine." A little bit of the tension from earlier returned to her eyes as she glanced behind me at the darkening street. "Will you be okay walking home alone?"

"It's a five minute walk through the park," I said, voice dry. I'd made the trip dozens of times before, at all hours of the day and night, so I repeated Naoko's own words back to her. "I think I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

She really was worried. "Would it make you feel better if I called you when I got home?"

"Please!" Naoko blurted, a little too loud. Looking abashed, she continued more quietly, "I know I'm being silly, but…"

"I'll call you, then," I promised, turning away from her home and towards the park across the street. "Ten minutes from now, tops."

"Don't let the zombies catch you before then!" Naoko called after me.

I scoffed. "Zombies can't catch me." I tipped her a sly wink over my shoulder. "I'm too fast."

And it was true. I might not be the fastest runner on the track team, but I was more than confident in my ability to outrun the average creep or would-be mugger—not that I had to worry about either of those in this little neighborhood park. I was certainly faster than the lumbering, stumbling zombies we'd just seen on screen.

So I wasn't scared as Naoko waved me off and I strolled into the park in the dying light. The sun was almost completely down by now, but I would be home in five minutes, even walking at a leisurely pace. I could make it in two if I ran. But it was a warm, pleasant night on the border of spring and summer, and I was happy to take my time. The wind in the trees was a soothing sound, like waves on a shore, and carried the smell of clean earth and fresh greenery. I could even make out a few stars, visible despite the light pollution of the city.

When the leaves rustled the first time, I paid it no attention. It was just the wind, surely. But when a twig snapped, I paused, craning my head around to peer cautiously at the treeline.

It was probably just an animal. Or, more likely, my mind was playing tricks on me, the natural result of walking home alone in the dark after watching a scary movie. Whatever it was, the noise had disrupted my feeling of peace. I no longer felt so brave and untouchable alone in the park. Even though I knew my fear was ridiculous, I picked up my pace to a jog, glancing over my shoulder uneasily, eyeing the long shadows of the trees.

That was my mistake, apparently.

It happened so quickly that I didn't see what happened. One moment I was scolding myself for being paranoid, running from the empty path behind me, and the next I was on the ground, pressed into the hard stone by a hard, immovable weight. I was so surprised and disoriented that I didn't even struggle, didn't even scream, as sharp pain bit into my upper arm.

And then, black.

—

I blinked up at the ceiling, puzzled. My mouth was dry. The lights above me were fluorescent, and bright, and there was something very wrong with that, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

The first, sluggish thought that went through my head was, _I've been bitten by a zombie._

I definitely remembered zombies, and there was a dull ache in my arm. _The bite_ , my foggy, drunken mind insisted. But that wasn't right. If I just thought about it, I could figure it out, but it was hard to think much at all. My head was oddly light, and I wanted to massage my temples, but I couldn't move my hands. Point of fact, I could hardly move at all, which was… not right. Right?

My neck was somewhat mobile. With some difficulty I managed to raise my head, turning my eyes from the bright fluorescents to get a good look at my body.

Bound. Strapped to a metal table with metal manacles.

The wrongness of _that_ jolted me out of my daze. My _drug-induced_ daze, I realized, because there was no other explanation for my scattered thoughts and my present location, restrained on a medical gurney.

I tugged on my wrists, and my ankles, testing the strength of the shackles, but they held fast. Heart beating wildly, I craned my neck, trying to get a sense for where the hell I was.

 _Maybe_ I'd been in an accident on the way home. _Maybe_ I was injured, and I was taken to the hospital. _Maybe_ they'd just given me some painkillers, and restrained me so I didn't hurt myself further.

It wasn't a terrible explanation. There were shiny metal cabinets and a counter with gleaming silver instruments I couldn't make out to my left, and more of the same on the right, plus a doorway and an empty rolling tray just inches from the gurney where I lay. With all the equipment, the bland beige and white of the walls and ceiling, the lingering smell of cleaning supplies and antiseptic, the room could easily have belonged in a hospital, but for one thing.

It was quiet.

The only sound was my harsh, panicked breaths and the rattling of the restraints as I struggled. There was no beeping of equipment, no loudspeaker requesting doctors to report to one place or another, no muffled conversations of nurses or doctors or patients in the hall or in nearby rooms.

This was no hospital.

I didn't know what else it _could_ be, but I wasn't keen to find out. I didn't know where I was, or how I got here, but it wasn't home and the journey had involved being _drugged_ , which was enough information for me to know that I wanted to get out of this place, _now_.

I craned my head to see where my struggling had got me. The skin on my wrists was angry red and swollen, but the restraints were still secure. And tight, too. No matter how hard I yanked, or twisted, there would be no pulling my hand free. Not without breaking my hand.

For a moment I considered trying it. But even if I could stand the pain and manage to free one of my hands, it would then be too mangled and broken to open the restraints on my other wrist, and around my ankles.

I was trapped.

With no other options, I tried my last resort. Best case scenario, I'd get out of here. Worst case scenario… well, at least I'd know what I was dealing with.

"HELP!" I screamed as loud as I possibly could, difficult though it was while laying down. I twisted my face toward the door, hoping the sound would carry better down the hall. "Help, please! Is anyone there?!"

I paused and listened, holding my breath in case I missed any noises out in the hall… but there was nothing. I took a deep breath and tried again. And again. And again.

I could only sustain the panicked urgency in my shouts for a few minutes. After a while, my cries grew more robotic, as my voice tired and as more and more time passed without any sign that anyone had heard me. Eventually I stopped altogether, thirsty and tired and hurting, terrified and confused and powerless.

Then, at last, footsteps.

I had begun to doze on the table, and at first I shook my head, straining my ears to make sure that it wasn't just my imagination. But no, it wasn't. Light, distant footsteps echoed down the hall, growing nearer every moment.

I opened my mouth, then shut it, swallowing heavily.

Those didn't sound like the urgent or wandering footfalls I would expect from someone investigating a distant cry for help. No, they sounded more like the leisurely, self-assured stroll of someone who'd kidnapped and drugged a high school girl, and knew exactly where she was.

I stared at the door, heart racing, and wondered what to do. Watch and wait? Pretend to be asleep? Beg? Bargain? There were too many unknowns, too much uncertainty. In the end, I watched with silent trepidation and a wildly beating heart as the door swung slowly open.

The thing was short.

That was my first thought, because it _was_ a thing. Not a zombie, but definitely not _human_ , either.

It was built like an ape, hunched and broad-set, maybe four feet tall. The thing had a bulbous, misshapen head framed by huge, bat-like ears. The top of its head was bald, but from the sides it sported limp, greasy green hair. Its skin was sallow purple-gray and wrinkled, a feature exaggerated all the more because it was grinning at me with a mouth full of long, sharp teeth. But more terrifying than any of its abnormalities were its eyes: dark, beady things that glittered with malice and, perhaps worse, intelligence.

"You caused quite the ruckus in here, Ms. Nakano," the thing admonished lightly as it closed the door. Its voice was simultaneously high and gravelly, a combination I wouldn't have guessed was possible just minutes ago. "It was a very near miss. If you'd started wailing a few minutes earlier, we might have had a rebellion on our hands."

The thought that I might have been rescued had I started shouting just a little bit sooner stung, but I seized on the information the thing's comment provided me. First, its use of "we" meant more than one captor. "Rebellion" meant other people, potentially also prisoners. And finally...

"You know my name." I had meant it to be an accusation, but the words came out weak, shaking with the surprise of what that implied. I had the horrible suspicion that the thing hadn't simply looked in my school bag to peek at the name written on my notebooks.

The thing's knife-toothed smile broadened. "Yes, that's right. In point of fact, Ms. Nakano, I know more about you than just about anyone…" It paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. "Including yourself."

That was concerning. I highly doubted it was true, but it did mean at the very least that this thing had set out to take me in particular, not just any high school girl out after dark.

It took enormous effort to keep my voice steady. "What do you want from me?"

" _From_ you? Very little." The thing smiled and spread its arms, a gesture that might have looked generous on a creature whose arms did not end in long, clawed fingers. "The real question is what I want _for_ you."

It paused, clearly hoping I'd ask the question. I clenched my jaw shut, and the thing tutted, shaking its head. "Stubborn _and_ ungrateful. With any other subject I might be disappointed, but with you it only excites me more! Just one more promising similarity between you and your cousin."

At first I had latched on to the thing's particularly foreboding use of the word _subject_ , but now I narrowed my eyes, confused. "I don't have a cousin."

The thing chuckled. It was an awful sound, like a fork rattling around in a garbage disposal. "It's as I said, Ms. Nakano. I know more about you than you know about yourself." It paused again, seeming to smugly relish its knowledge. "You _do_ have a cousin. One Yusuke Urameshi."

It spoke the name with relish and awe, not unlike how some of the girls in my class uttered the names of particularly attractive pop stars. The first name meant nothing to me, but the last name…

The thing smirked, flashing its teeth. "Yes, that's right. Your mother never talks about her disgrace of a younger sister, does she? Disowned at fourteen for getting knocked up. The result was your cousin, Yusuke."

I hated for this monster to be right about anything, but my mother's family name _had_ been Urameshi before she married my father, and I'd learned from the occasional passive-aggressive comment from my mother and grandparents that my mother _did_ have an estranged younger sister. So maybe I did have a cousin, after all.

"...Is he here, too?" I asked, even though I guessed from the longing in the thing's voice that he wasn't.

"No." The thing scowled immediately, wrinkles deepening. "He's far too well-protected… _for now_. I'll get my hands on him eventually. In the meantime, I'll have to make do with the closest available substitute." Its eyes fell on me. "You, Ms. Nakano, have the honor of being part of an experiment that will change the very future of the human race."

"May I _decline_ this honor?"

The thing looked half annoyed, half fondly amused. "Your consent is quite unnecessary, Ms. Nakano." The thing crossed further into the room, catching hold of the rolling tray near the gurney and wheeling it out of sight. An occasional clatter sounded as it continued, in the tone of one starting an academic lecture, "Now, your cousin is an unusual specimen. Most humans can only access their spiritual energy through innate talent, or through years of intense training."

I didn't know what that meant, but it was hard to focus on parsing its meaning as the thing wheeled the tray back over to my side. There was an odd, bulky-looking instrument that looked a bit like a calculator, several small syringes, a defibrillator, and a single pillow. The last item seemed out of place among the others, and I stared at it, puzzled. Was I to be made comfortable while this monster jabbed me with needles?

The thing smiled as it followed my gaze, and it picked up the pillow with one clawed hand. "Your cousin took a _most_ fascinating shortcut to access his spiritual powers." The thing leaned close, so I could smell the foul breath from its too-wide smile. "Let's see if we can't replicate his results."

When I was about ten, I got the stomach flu. It was the worst illness I'd ever experienced. I was achy and in pain and nauseous, and I vomited dozens of times. At first it was horrible—bile rising up my throat and through my nose, foul smelling and traumatic. But after a few days of horrible pain and discomfort, I learned to look forward to the times I threw up. It became a mercy, in a way, because despite the discomfort, I always felt just the littlest bit better after I emptied my stomach. Compared to the constant pain and misery of the illness, that feeling of relief was a sweet mercy.

That's kind of what it felt like to die.

Not the first time, of course. The first time, I panicked and twitched as the thing pressed the pillow firmly into my face, suffocating me. I tried once again to escape my restraints, to turn my head and dislodge the pillow, but the thing was too strong. My lungs burned. The sense of panic built the longer and longer I went without breath. I stopped moving, hoping that conserving energy would make what little breath I had left last longer. Maybe if I went limp the thing would think he'd succeeded, and I could breathe again. But it didn't work. The pillow pressed down further, unrelenting. The edges of my vision turned red, then faded to darkness.

I don't remember dying that first time. I don't know if my soul ever managed to leave my body before I was shocked awake. The electricity set my still heart to pumping again, and I gasped for air as my limbs shook and twitched from the shock.

I couldn't focus on the monster then. All I could think about was the pain, all through my body, in my mind, in my _soul_. It was worse than the burning in my lungs, the uncontrollable trembling ot my limbs. It was the monster had reached his clawed hand into my chest and squeeze my heart, my _spirit_ , and then twisted it, without mercy. Consumed by the agony, I barely registered a single low, mechanical beep over the sound of my wheezing. The thing sighed gustily.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that I'd succeed on the first try." There was a dull, metallic clatter. Then the thing loomed over me once again. "Oh, well. Try, try again!"

And try again he did. The second and third times were much like the first. I resisted. I panicked. I lived. I thought maybe the thing was waiting a little longer to resuscitate me each time, but it was hard to keep track, because suffocating and dying made it very difficult to track time. And every time, the agony.

The fourth time, after my vision faded to black, I saw a warm, welcoming light. I reached out to grasp it, gladly—but before I could touch it I was jerked back to life again, shuddering and shaking.

I was sick on the table, barely able to turn my head so I didn't choke on my own vomit. I sobbed and shook as the thing tutted and wiped the table clean. I think I might have begged him to stop, but there was no telling if the pleas were leaving my mouth or screamed silently in my mind.

The fifth time I got closer. I welcomed death, and I tried to hurry, because somehow I knew that if only I could touch that light, I would escape forever, and the thing couldn't drag me back anymore. The pain would be over, forever. I reached for the light. I strained for it.

I wasn't quick enough.

The sixth time, I screamed with frustration as I woke again on the table, tears streaming down my face. I _wanted_ to die. _I_ _wanted to die_ , I told the monster. Why couldn't it just let me die?

Before, I'd been begging the thing to stop hurting me, stop _killing_ me, but now I just wanted it all to stop. I begged the thing to kill me, permanently, to just _let me stay dead_. But it didn't matter anyway. The thing didn't listen before, and it didn't listen now.

The seventh time there was no warm, bright light. I woke abruptly, not on the table, but above it. I floated, in shock, as the thing glanced between my pale, motionless body on the table and the pocket watch it held in one clawed hand. It waited a full minute, then reached once more for the paddles of the defibrillator.

"NO!"

I swung forward, trying to knock the paddles out of its hands, but it was useless. I passed right through, like smoke, and in the next moment I was yanked back to awareness, screaming awake on the table for the seventh time.

This time the monitor the thing waved over me gave three merry little chirps. The monster hummed, pleased. "Well, Ms. Nakano, it seems seven is your lucky number." It chuckled. The device clattered onto the table again and I flinched automatically, anticipating being smothered again. Instead the thing pressed a needle into a vein, and against my will my eyes began to flutter shut. "Yes, get some rest now, Ms. Nakano. You did well. And soon, the real fun can begin."


	2. Ren: Awakening

When I woke again I wasn't strapped down anymore, but I had no illusions that I'd open my eyes safe in my bed at home. Even before I opened my eyes I could feel the raw, burning injuries on my wrists from my writhing, and the sore ache of my throat from my screams.

The room I found myself in was some sort of cell. Three solid white walls, a small sink and toilet tucked into the corner behind a flimsy curtain, the cot I was lying on, and bars facing a hallway. I couldn't see from where I sat how many cells there were in all, but I could see that the cell directly opposite me was also occupied, and that its occupant was watching me back.

"Are you alright?" The man looked about my dad's age, with kind, dark eyes and dark hair braided down his back. "We saw them drag you in. You've been out for hours."

I glanced around at the word "we", but the other cells in my view were empty. I wasn't sure how to answer his question. I was absolutely _not_ alright, but I wasn't in too much pain, and this other prisoner seemed to mean well.

"I'll live," I said finally, though the joke was probably lost on him. Or maybe it wasn't. If he was in a cell opposite mine, it was entirely possible he'd been repeatedly killed and un-killed in the same way as me. Maybe even for the same reason. "Are you related to Yusuke, too?"

"Who?" The confusion seemed genuine, and the man shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"Apparently my cousin is an 'unusual specimen', but he's 'too well-guarded', so the…" I didn't know how to describe the thing that had tortured me without sounding like a crazy person, so I settled for waving my arm suggestively and finished, "took me instead."

"Took?" The man repeated, brows furrowing. He scanned me up and down, eyes lingering on my wrists and my filthy school uniform. "You didn't volunteer."

He'd said it as a statement, a horrified realization. It was my turn to stare. "Volunteer for _what_?"

Silently, the man walked to the front of his cell and slid down to sit on the ground, hands clenched around the bars and looking as if he was settling in to tell a long story. I crossed to the edge of my cell on unsteady legs, mirrored him, and listened.

If he'd his story to me 24 hours ago I'd have called him crazy. But since I'd spent the last day being smothered to death and revived by something I was positive wasn't human, and had briefly experienced what I was fairly sure was my soul leaving my body, I decided to take him at his word.

He told me his name was Kai, and that he and two others were students of the great psychic called Metamura. He told me how he and his fellow students had a great love and respect for their master, who was like a father to them, and who had helped them all to develop and refine their psychic techniques. He told me how his master had fallen deathly ill a short while ago, and that no doctors could cure his sickness. And he told me how the demon, Dr. Ichigaki, had come and offered to help their master—for a price.

In exchange for their cooperation in his blood research, Ichigaki promised he'd cure their master. Given what I knew of Ichigaki's nature from my violent kidnapping, torture, and repeated death, I strongly suspected that that was a lie. But because Kai looked so mournful and defeated already, I kept those thoughts to myself.

"I'm Ren Nakano, by the way," I said eventually, after Kai had finished his story and fallen into a brooding silence.

The belated introduction managed to draw a smile and a weak chuckle from Kai. "Nice to meet you, Ren. I only wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yeah… me, too."

We didn't talk after that. We both retreated to our respective cots, and though I had no sense of night or day in the dim artificial lighting of the cells, I tried to sleep. I rested with my eyes closed, teetering on the edge of dreams for what felt like hours until a loud metallic clattering woke me, followed by murmured voices and shuffling.

In his cell across from me, Kai stood quickly and gripped the bars, craning his head in the direction of the noise and watching intently. I followed his lead, coming to the edge of my cell and trying to get a look at the source of the noise.

The clattering appeared to have come from a large metal door, now closed, just down the hall. The voices and shuffling came from four figures now approaching our cells. Two of them were human-looking, with slumped shoulders and heads hanging as they stumbled along. I guessed based on their apparent humanity and Kai's rapt attention that these two were En and Ryo, his fellow students. The other two figures, who were sneering and hauling the humans along by the arm, were most certainly not human.

I couldn't decide if they looked more feline or reptilian. Their skin was in shades of light orange-brown, covered in thin hair, and their bulbous yellow eyes had vertical slits for pupils. Their long, reptilian tails swayed behind them as they walked, and as they sneered at the humans I could see glimpses of long, sharp, crooked teeth protruding over their lips.

They didn't speak to or acknowledge me or Kai as they manhandled the other two into the cells on either side of Kai's. Kai watched intently, and the two newcomers shot him reassuring looks before they entered their cells and lost sight of each other.

The demons—from Kai's story I assumed they were demons like Ichigaki, and not humans like us who'd been experimented on—left, snickering to each other as they left through the heavy metal door. The heavy clang of the metal and the snick of a tumbling lock echoed down the hall of cells.

"Are you two alright?" Kai asked as soon as they'd gone. He pressed against the bars of his cell, although no matter how far forward he stretched he didn't have a sight-line into the neighboring cells the way I did.

"We're fine," said the man to Kai's left and my right. He was broad-shouldered and tan, with dark, shaggy hair and a large cross-shaped scar to the left side of his forehead that thankfully looked long-healed. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, maybe a decade younger than I pegged Kai to be. "They just ran some more tests, and took some more blood."

"A lot more blood," the one to Kai's right mumbled. He seemed even younger than me, maybe 15 or 16 at most. Long, spiky orange hair hung to his chin, a long fringe obscuring most of his face.

"A lot more blood," the first allowed. "But we're fine." His eyes slid over to me, curiosity plain. "Who's this?"

"This is Ren Nakano," Kai introduced, looking much more relaxed now that he knew his friends were safe. "Ren, this is En," he gestured to the the cell with the younger boy, "and Ryo." He gestured to the cell with the dark-haired man on his other side. "En, Ryo, Ren here did not volunteer for Dr. Ichigaki's experiments."

From the way his eyes sharpened, I could tell that Ryo understood immediately what Kai meant. It took En a few moments longer to grasp his meaning, but then he gasped. "What?"

Ryo curled his hands around the bars of his cell, peering at me critically. There was no mirror in the cell, but I could guess I was in a sorry state, considering how rapidly Ryo's eyes darkened with anger. His brows drew together in confusion after a moment, and he glanced in the direction of Kai's cell to ask, "But why would he do that?"

I opened my mouth to suggest that perhaps it was because Dr. Ichigaki was an insane, evil demon, but En beat me to it. "Why wouldn't he?" En's fingers twisted in his shirtsleeve, a nervous gesture that made him look even younger. "This whole thing has been suspicious from the start."

Ryo's lips tightened impatiently, though the look was lost on En. "Yes, but Dr. Ichigaki convinced us to _agree_ to his experiments. We all walked into his lab willingly. Why kidnap her, but not us?"

That thought hadn't occurred to me, but after a bit of thought I had a good guess. "You three are trained martial artists, right? And psychics?" Ryo nodded shortly. "He probably knew he couldn't take you by force."

That answer seemed to satisfy Ryo's curiosity, though he didn't look at all pleased. And it raised yet another question, which En voiced. "You're not a psychic?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but hesitated.

Kai had explained that psychics were humans who could harness their own spiritual energy. And Ichigaki, before he began his experiments, had talked about Yusuke and his 'fascinating shortcut' to unlocking his 'spiritual powers'. Was that what Ichigaki had been hoping to achieve? And if so, had he succeeded?

At last I answered, uncertain and halting, "...I wasn't when he took me."

En just blinked, puzzled, but Kai's face rapidly drained of color, and Ryo leaned forward against the bars once again, eyes sharp as broken glass. In a positively dangerous voice, he demanded, "What did the doctor do?"

I was shaking my head before even finished the question. I couldn't say it. If I had to repeat aloud exactly what had happened in that lab, I was sure I would lose the already-tenuous grasp I had on my sanity.

"I don't want to talk about it." Ryo and Kai seemed to accept that, though judging by the looks on their faces they could probably guess it was bad. En, though, huffed a frustrated breath, clearly out of the loop.

"What is it?" He looked to his left, visibly irritated by the silence and his inability to see the looks on his friends' faces. "What am I missing?"

Kai took a breath in, but held it for a long moment before he spoke. Eventually he said, in a deep, soothing voice, "Every human has their own spirit energy. And every human can harness that energy, if they have the strength and discipline to work for it." It almost sounded like a quote, he uttered it so carefully.

"Master Metamura taught us that," En said quietly, seeming calmer now that Kai was talking. "But what does it have to do with Dr. Ichigaki?"

"You know that some people have more energy than others. Some, like you, can harness that power more easily. Others," Kai paused, a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips that only I could see, "require years of training even just to become aware of their spiritual power, let alone harness it."

En was nodding, unsurprised. All of this was new to me, but clearly it was review for him. "So?" He prompted when Kai paused for a long moment.

"Some other people…" Kai glanced at me, then away. I was glad not to suffer the pressure of his eyes as he explained, "Under extraordinary circumstances, some people can tap into their spiritual power without the proper training."

"Extraordinary circumstances?" En echoed, confused.

Kai shook his head. This time it was Ryo who spoke up, voice grim. "Trauma. Danger. Death."

"Oh." En looked at me. Opened his mouth, then shut it. I looked away, busying myself with tugging my uniform jacket's sleeves down to more fully cover my battered, bruised wrists. "...Did it work?"

I, too, was interested in the answer to that question. Kai looked uncertain, Ryo thoughtful. "I can't tell," Ryo said. "But there's a simple enough way to find out."

My first instinct was to ask if it would hurt. But since asking that question would be pretty telling, and since these guys seemed to want to help, I asked instead, "How?"

"Focus on gathering all your spirit energy in your index finger," Ryo instructed. "If you are a psychic now, it will begin to glow and feel warm when you have focused your energy there."

"Right…" I stared at my right hand. My index finger was a little dirty from the events of the last day or so, but it didn't glow in the slightest. "And how do I do that, exactly?"

"Uh…" Ryo floundered, apparently struggling to articulate it any better than that.

Kai sighed, though not impatiently, and said, "It's difficult to describe. Your energy flows through your body. When you can focus on it, and gather it, you'll feel it."

"So I have to focus it to feel it, but I have to feel it to focus it?" It all sounded very circular. Ryo shrugged helplessly, but nodded.

"The energy is part of you," En said, tapping his fingers to his chest just over his heart. "It should feel warm, and familiar. Did you ever see ghosts or get bad feelings or premonitions, before?"

Until very recently I hadn't believed either of those things even existed, so I shook my head, bemused. "Then just try to find that warm, familiar feeling and direct it to your finger."

"Closing your eyes helps," Kai added.

The vague instructions did not inspire confidence, but I figured I might as well try. I shut my eyes and turned my attention inward. I became aware of my breathing. The lingering tightness in my chest. The scrapes on my hands and knees, and my swollen, tender wrists and ankles. I felt the dry, raw ache of my throat, and even the steady thrum of blood through my veins. I heard my heart as it beat.

And there, near my heart, was the focal point of the warmth Ryo had described. I could feel it pulsing through my veins, flowing through my body in sync with my blood. I tried to focus on directing that warmth to my hand, but it resisted, seeming reluctant to disrupt its natural flow. I imagined gathering up the warmth and pushing it, slowly, down my right arm, through my hand, and to the very tip of my index finger.

Eventually my finger grew warm, and tingly. But was I just imagining it? Or was it real?

I peeked my eyes open, and saw that there was indeed a pale golden light emitting from my index finger. The visual confirmation threw me off enough to break my focus, and the energy I'd gathered in my finger dissipated almost immediately to resume its normal flow through my body.

"So it did work," En murmured. When I looked up from my hand, Kai and Ryo were nodding in agreement.

I didn't really have much hope, but I had to ask. "I don't suppose there's any way these psychic powers could help me blast my way out of this cell, is there?"

En shook his head, shoulders slumped. "Even if your spirit power was strong enough to break through the walls—"

"And it's not," Ryo cut in bluntly before En continued.

"The cells have their own energy field. You wouldn't be able to get through." There was a resigned tone in En's voice that made me suspect he may have learned this the hard way.

The suspicion was strengthened when Ryo muttered moodily, "You'd just hurt yourself trying."

"We made a promise." Kai's voice was quiet, but En and Ryo flinched like he'd shouted. En looked chastised by the reminder, but as Kai continued Ryo dipped his head, hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles went white. "We promised to undergo these experiments in order to save Master Metamura. We are honor bound to keep that promise!"

"And what about Ichigaki?" Ryo snapped. En flinched again at the outburst. Kai's jaw tightened. "You really think he's going to keep his end of the bargain? After he _kidnapped_ this girl? He has no honor!"

Kai opened his mouth to retort, but En beat him to it, voice small. "If this was really just blood research… why would he need psychics?"

No one had a good answer to that question, and we all fell silent. I found myself grateful that En couldn't see his friends the way I could. Surely ignorance had to be better than seeing the looks of utter despair and defeat on Kai and Ryo's faces.

I turned away from the sight, returned to my cot, and tried to quiet my mind enough to return to sleep.

My dreams were uneasy. Though the first thing I did upon lying down was toss the cot's small pillow to the far side of the cell, I still woke several times from nightmares of suffocation, heart racing gasping desperately for breath. I couldn't tell if I'd slept for hours, or only minutes, before the feline-lizard demons returned and opened the door to Kai's cell.

"Wait!" Ryo pressed against the bars of his own cell, reaching one hand beyond urgently. Kai was already in the hall, one arm held firmly in the clawed grip of one of the monsters.

"Take me instead!" Ryo demanded. "I want to talk to Dr. Ichigaki!"

That was a supremely stupid idea, I thought, and Kai seemed to agree, because his eyes widened and he stood straight. "Ryo, no!"

The demon who wasn't holding Kai smiled a wicked, too-wide smile. "Dr. Ichigaki isn't interested in anything you have to say."

The demon holding Kai snickered. Ryo ground his teeth, anger on his face like a thundercloud. "Just what the hell is going on here?! What kind of blood research is this?!"

There was a beat of tense silence. Then the demons laughed, raucously, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. En and Kai's faces were bone-white at the sound, but Ryo's flushed with anger.

"The doctor told us this might happen." Still chuckling, the demon who'd spoken before reached into its pocket. "That's why he gave us _these_."

The demon produced a small device. It was about the size of a pocket calculator, and seemed harmless enough—until the demon pressed a button on the side and blinding energy sparked between two metal prongs protruding from the end of it. Without hesitating, he pressed the thing against Ryo's outstretched arm.

I had never been curious about what burning flesh smelled like, but I found out anyway in that moment. The air filled with an acrid, burning stench as Ryo's skin blackened where the energy touched him. He cried out in pain and yanked his arm back inside his cell with such force that he landed on his back, head cracking against the concrete floor.

Panicked by the sound, I pressed closer to the bars to check if Ryo was still moving, still breathing, though I kept a wary eye on the demon with the device in case he decided to wave it in my direction. Thankfully, Ryo was still awake, hissing in pain as he slowly levered himself up to a seated position with his good arm. Kai, however, hadn't seen his recovery, and struggled against the demon holding him, eyes wide with panic.

"Ryo!" Kai's hands sparked with energy for the briefest moment and he stepped forward, trying to make his way back towards Ryo's cell, but the demon gripping his arm yanked him mercilessly backwards. It aimed a vicious kick to Kai's knee, sneering as Kai crashed to the ground with a grunt of surprise. The demon leapt on him before he could recover, securing his hands behind his back with what appeared to be thick metal manacles.

"Stop!" En cried, gripping the bars to his own cell. Ryo, clutching his blackened arm, had shuffled back to the door of his cell and watched with wide eyes. "What are you doing?!"

"Energy-suppressing manacles," the demon sneered, gleefully yanking Kai to his feet. "Don't even try it!"

The demons dragged Kai down the hall. En, Ryo, and I watched, stunned to silence, as the door at the end of the hall clanged shut. The noise echoed down the hall, a horrible, final sound. Our harsh breathing seemed ultra-loud in the quiet that followed.

"Ryo, are you okay?" En asked urgently.

Ryo was looking grimly at his blackened arm. I couldn't tell for sure just how bad his injury was—the color might have been ash, or it might have been necrotic skin—but the awful smell of his burning flesh still lingered in the air. En couldn't see it, though, so he had no reason to doubt Ryo when he said, voice tight, "I'm fine."

I shot Ryo a look to let him know that I, at least, knew that for the bald-faced lie it was. He returned it with a resolute stare, just daring me to contradict him out loud and upset En further. I didn't dare. I turned my gaze away, jaw set.

At Ryo's reassurance, En had turned worried eyes to the door at the end of the hallway. "Do you think Kai will be okay?"

"...He'll be fine, too." Despite his words, Ryo didn't look at all confident.

"He _will_ be fine," I said without thinking. En and Ryo's eyes snapped towards me, hopeful and skeptical in turn. I swallowed, and explained my reasoning. "Whatever it is Ichigaki really wants… He wants us all alive for it."

The cell block was quiet after that. En, exhausted by the events and likely still suffering from the after-effects of having too much blood drawn, fell asleep on his cot not long after Kai was taken. When En's breathing had been steady and soft for long minutes, Ryo made his way to the small sink tucked in the back corner of his cell and tried to clean his injured arm without making too much noise.

The tap squeaked, and the water trickled, and Ryo hissed in pain as he cleaned his wound, but En never stirred.

When Ryo had gingerly dried off his arm and returned to sitting on the edge of his cot, I surveyed the damage. Much of the black had washed off, but the entirety of Ryo's forearm was a mottled, bruised purple, surrounding an angry-looking blister that looked like it would need to be drained.

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice low so as not to wake En.

Ryo jolted a little, seeming to have forgotten that I was there, and could see him. He adjusted his posture in an attempt to hide the state of his arm. "It looks worse than it is."

I interpreted that to be roughly equivalent to, _I am in terrible pain but am too macho to admit it_. Still, his arm wasn't my main concern. "I'm more worried about your head, to be honest."

The cracking sound his skull had made as it hit the floor had been stuck in my head like the chorus of a catchy song, playing over and over again. Ryo looked surprised at the reminder—not a good sign, with a head injury like that—and tentatively prodded at his scalp with the fingers of his uninjured left hand. After a moment he winced, quickly drawing his hand back into his lap.

"You didn't black out, did you?" I didn't know what to look for in terms of concussions, but I knew blacking out and vomiting were bad signs. "Are you nauseous at all?"

Irritatingly, Ryo was beginning to look amused by my questions. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't have a concussion."

"My friend Naoko told me that once," I informed him dryly. "Right before she ruined my shoes."

Ryo huffed a laugh, but seemed to regret it immediately, based on the pained grimace that flashed across his face. Still, he said, "It'd be pretty hard to ruin your shoes from over here."

"Fair enough."

Ryo didn't say anything more. I fidgeted. I had a vague impression that people who were possibly concussed weren't supposed to sleep, but I wasn't sure for how long.

"How long have you three been here, anyway?" I asked at last, partly to satisfy my curiosity and partly to keep Ryo from laying down on his cot.

Ryo paused, considering the question. "Maybe two weeks?" But he looked uncertain about the answer. "It's hard to say for sure. I _think_ they feed us three meals a day, but they never dim the lights, and there's no windows, so…"

"Right." I drummed my fingers on my leg thoughtfully. "Have you been here the entire time?"

"These cells, you mean?" I nodded. "When we're not in the lab, yes."

I tried to think of any circumstances where I'd walk into a room like this willingly, but I couldn't. "And that didn't make you suspicious at all?"

It was a rude question, and I regretted voicing it as soon as the words left my mouth, but Ryo didn't look angry. Just… tired.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, and murmured, almost like a prayer, "Master Metamura is like a father to us… We would do _anything_ to save him." He opened his eyes and looked at me, and I felt as pinned as I had back on Ichigaki's table. "Even undergo experiments by a demon doctor... or walk into this prison, of our own free will."

He stopped talking, then, but I could hear the words he left unsaid perfectly clearly, just the same.

 _Even die._

* * *

"What are you using all this blood for, Dr. Ichigaki?"

I could have been in the drama club for the performance I was putting on. What I _really_ wanted to do was take the syringe the doctor was using to tap my veins and shove it all the way through his beady eye and into his brain. But my hands were bound to the demented dentist's chair that the doctor kept in the blood-taking room. I was cuffed at all times, whenever I wasn't in my cell, which meant that violence wasn't an option.

Flattery, however, was.

It was a calculated decision on my part. If there was anything I knew about serial killers, villains, and madmen, it was that their biggest weakness was their _ego_. When they felt secure in their victory, they inevitably shared too many details about their plans—just enough for the heroes to foil them escape.

I was hoping, if I wasn't too antagonistic, if I seemed _curious_ and even _impressed_ with the doctor's work, he might make just such a mistake. Hopefully he wasn't too genre-savvy.

Ichigaki did look a bit surprised at the tone of my question, and the respectful title, but he didn't pay too much attention to it, turning his attention immediately back to watching my blood fill the syringe.

"Research, my dear," he said as he placed the full syringe on the tray and readied another. "Research."

I swallowed quietly and decided to press my luck.

"Research on psychics?"

Ichigaki paused for half a second before putting the needle in my arm. "Obviously."

It was a dismissal. He wasn't going to discuss it. I would probably have to wait a few days until he took me from the cells again to draw blood, and hope he would be in a better mood. But I didn't want to wait that long.

I put on my best curious face, the perfect picture of a teacher's pet, and asked, "What's your hypothesis, Doctor?"

It was like I'd said the magic word. Ichigaki gave me a considering look. It was not quite like he saw me as a real, sentient being. No, in that moment, he looked at me like I was a dog who'd learned a new trick, showing that I wasn't quite as stupid as he'd initially thought.

That suited me just fine, though. If he thought I was _really_ smart, he might not dare to talk.

"My hypothesis…" He said it slowly, smiling his awful smile and savoring the word. "...is that the human spirit is a vastly underutilized source of energy. And with the right technology, I believe that I can harness that energy in a way the world has never seen!"

He'd gone full mad-scientist at the end there, voice rising in a crescendo, eyes distant as he imagined his scientific triumph. I supposed I should count myself lucky that Ichigaki was not of the _Frankenstein_ persuasion, slicing and dicing in an attempt to bring the dead to life.

But then, he'd already accomplished that, hadn't he?

It was enough information for one day. I tucked the doctor's ambition away in my mind for later consideration.

* * *

Ten days passed, by my reckoning.

After returning from Ichigaki's lab, I had startled my fellow prisoners with the loud tearing noises as, struggling with only my teeth and hands, I tore the red neckerchief from of my school uniform into thin scraps of fabric.

"What are you doing?" En had been the one to ask, eyes wide. He'd looked a little disgusted, or perhaps a little worried that I was going insane from captivity.

"Making a calendar," was my answer.

We received three meals a day. Each day, when we received the third meal, I made a knot in the scraps of shredded fabric I'd tied in ribbons to the edge of my cot. Three meals, one day, one knot.

I made two initial knots, for the two days that had already passed since I was taken. On the fourth day, I had been taken to have my blood drawn for the first time. The again on day seven.

To my fellow prisoners' puzzlement, I had been as polite and compliant as possible with Ichigaki and the demons who served him. Ichigaki called them M4 and M5. They likely had real names, like En, Ryo, and Kai, who I had learned Ichigaki called M1, M2, and M3 respectively.

"Does that make me M6?" I had asked the doctor as he drew my blood for the second time.

Ichigaki had chuckled. "That would be neat and tidy, wouldn't it? But no. You're a little different, my dear, a little peculiar." He had patted my cheek, then, with his clawed hand. It was an oddly _normal_ gesture—he was not cold or clammy, as one might expect a monster to be. His hand was dry and warm, the touch almost affectionate, as if I was a precocious child or a favored pet. "No, I've decided to call you _Nana_."

And he'd smiled that awful smile, like he was expecting me to smile and appreciate the name. Luckily he'd pricked me with the needle again just then, and I was able to hide my distaste for the moniker with a show of discomfort.

Nana. Seven. A name and a number, all in one. I normally appreciated a good bit of wordplay, but this was an exception.

Now, on day ten, I was taken once more to the blood-drawing room, and Dr. Ichigaki greeted me by 'name' as I was strapped once more into his vampire chair.

"May I ask you a question?" I asked when the doctor had half a syringe already. He would allow it, I knew, but asking if I _could_ ask would give him a sense of power.

Sure enough, the doctor chortled. "But you just have, my dear girl." Still, he gave me a patient sort of glance to indicate that he was still listening. How generous of him.

"What makes Yusuke such a fascinating specimen?" The question was asked uncertainly. Curiosity was there, of course, but more than a little self-consciousness, too. As if I weren't sure if I were measuring up to Dr. Ichigaki's expectations. As if I wanted to.

"That's why I'm here, right?" I asked. Ichigaki pulled the filled syringe from my vein and turned to set it gently on the tray, then turned his dark, too-intelligent eyes back to my face. "Was it just the…" The pause, where words failed me, was not an act. "The shortcut?"

Ichigaki smiled a tight-lipped smile. I was glad for once not to see his teeth. "Heavens, no. Yusuke's resurrection is only the first of his peculiarities." Yusuke seemed to be Ichigaki's favorite subject, as he happily continued, "He's also shown enormous growth in power in a remarkably short span of time!"

Ichigaki paused, then, a slight frown forming as he glanced between my face and my veins. "A trait you do not seem to share… yet."

There was something funny in his tone on that last word that wrenched a question out of me I hadn't meant to ask. "What if I don't share it at all?"

Ichigaki's answer was almost mechanical, the sadistic fondness with which he'd called me _Nana_ completely absent. "That would be most unfortunate."

The words stuck in my head. As M4 and M5 escorted me from the lab, _That would be most unfortunate_. As they wrenched open the heavy metal doors to the cell block, _That would be most unfortunate_. As we passed other cells on the way back to mine, cells that were empty, but for some mysterious dark stains on the walls that I had tried not to think too much about. But now the rusty color of them lingered at the corners of my eyes, wondering if perhaps their previous occupants had been… _unfortunate_.

My fear must have shown on my face, because as soon as M4 and M5 had shut the door behind them Kai asked, "Are you alright?"

The fingers on my right hand twitched in agitation, itching with the memory of the golden energy I'd manifested there to prove my psychic abilities. My heart pounded because I knew in my bones that glowing fingers would not be enough.

Instead of responding to Kai's question, I asked, "Can you teach me how to get better at using my spirit energy?"

Kai's eyebrows raised sharply at the unexpected question—or perhaps at the hollow tone in which it was delivered. "Why do you ask?"

"Yusuke has shown 'enormous growth' in a short amount of time." My fingers twitched again. "...I'm afraid I won't measure up."

 _I'm afraid I'll be a dark stain on the wall_ , I didn't say. In the back of my mind, Ichigaki's voice: _That would be most unfortunate._

I may as well have said the words, though, because Kai's face grew grim. "We can try. But we are no masters, ourselves."

"And there's only so much you can do in these cells," Ryo added, gripping his cell bars as he joined the conversation. En, too, was at the edge of his cell, listening.

"Just teach me whatever you can," I said, because in matters of life and death I'd take anything I could get. "Please."

* * *

It took three days for me to call on my energy at will without needing to close my eyes and meditate. After that, I spent a week practicing moving the focal point of my energy from one body part to another—finger to finger, hand to hand, hand to foot, and so on.

The next step after that was manifesting the energy _outside_ my body, in a physical form. The others had demonstrated what they could of their own techniques. Kai produced a javelin made of pure energy, but in the confines of his cell, was unable to throw it. Ryo displayed his method of coating his hand in energy like a glove, assuring me that, when he struck something with it, the results were explosive.

Only En's technique was conducive to showing off in the cells. His energy manifested in the form of rings, one on each arm, and he was _amazing_ with them. His control was so absolute that he might as well have been playing with circus rings, doing tricks and rolling the energy rings around. At my wide-eyed admiration, En had also proudly informed me that this was nothing—because in a real fight, he could even create illusory rings, making two projectiles look like six.

Watching En and replicating his technique were two different things, though. For simplicity's sake I stuck to attempting to form my energy into a ball, about the size of a softball. It was an easy, familiar shape in an easy, familiar size, which was an advantage, because it gave me one less thing to think about when attempting to channel my energy.

Disrupting the flow of energy to make it go where I wanted _in_ my body had been easy compared to the effort it took to make the energy manifest _outside_ my body. It took me ten days just to be able to hold the ball stable without dissipating, and another three to be able to toss it from hand to hand.

I practiced nearly nonstop. When I wasn't eating, sleeping, or getting my blood drawn, I was practicing. Manifesting the orb, tossing the orb, catching the orb.

In the evenings, when I'd exhausted myself too much to continue practicing and we'd all eaten our third meal, we talked.

En, I learned, had grown up in a normal family with no history of spirit awareness. He'd been able to sense ghosts and demons from a young age, though, and for years he'd been scared and confused. His family, unable to understand, had shipped him to dozens of psychologists and child therapists before he was finally approached by Master Metamura, who helped him control his powers and make sense of everything he'd experienced.

Kai, meanwhile, had come from a long line of psychics, but had an unusually hard time accessing his own spirit energy. When his own family gave him up as a lost cause, he went from teacher to teacher, trying to find a master who would help him finally reach his inner potential.

Ryo was less open about his past. He'd curtly explained that his parents had been moderately talented human psychics who were killed by demons, and that he came to learn from Metamura after their deaths. He didn't go into detail about how it happened, but the haunted expression on his face made me pretty sure he'd either seen it happen, or had found the bodies in the aftermath. He didn't say when it happened, either, but Ryo looked not much older than his mid-twenties, so I wouldn't have been surprised if he was a teenager, or even a child when they'd been murdered.

When we tired of retelling our tragic backstories to each other, we found other ways to pass the time. Kai was pretty well versed in history and myth from his travels, and made for an excellent storyteller. When all of us were in our cells, he'd tell folk tales or stories of great heroes from history, and En, Ryo, and I would nod off to his soothing voice.

En would lead games, sometimes. He'd think of a famous person and we'd have to ask questions to figure out who it was, or challenge us with riddles and tongue twisters. Kai had already heard most of the riddles En told, so he tended not to answer them, happy instead to listen to Ryo and me as we tried to puzzle out the answers. Ryo outright refused to participate in the tongue twisters. He said it was because they were childish, but I suspected he just didn't want to sound stupid when he tripped over his words. In any case, En, Kai and I would repeat them as quickly as we could, dissolving into quiet laughter when we inevitably tripped up.

"Hey, Ren?" En asked one night. Or I guessed it was night. We were all lying in our cots trying to drift off.

"Yeah?"

En's voice was small and quiet. It had been his turn for blood today. "Can you sing?"

Not a question I was expecting. I craned my neck up from the cot, but there was no way I'd be able to see En's face from this angle. "Sure. Anyone can sing." Not everyone could sing _well_ , but I was alright as long as I wasn't too ambitious with high and low notes. No one had ever plugged their ears while I sang karaoke, at least.

En was quiet for a moment. Then, "Would you sing something?"

If someone had asked me that under normal circumstances, I would have been embarrassed and tried to decline. But there's a special kind of intimacy and trust that develops when your cellmates can watch you peeing. They didn't, of course, but still. I was pretty much beyond embarrassment with En, Kai, and Ryo. "You wanna hear anything in particular? I only really know pop songs."

"Doesn't matter."

I picked a slow love ballad I could take my time with that I knew didn't have any high notes my voice would crack on. I finished a few minutes later to silence, and I wondered if En had fallen asleep. But then he asked, "Another?"

I paused, trying to think of another song I could sing decently that I knew all the words to, but as I thought a deep, low voice sang out an old folk song. I turned to look at Kai, but to my surprise he was lying peacefully, eyes closed. It was Ryo who had started to sing.

* * *

On the afternoon of day 40, I crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and muttered curses.

After weeks of practice I could manipulate my orbs of energy easily. When I felt I'd hit a stopping point, I tried to move on to what felt like the next natural step: manifesting two orbs of energy simultaneously. Unfortunately, my first attempt had blown up in my face—in a very literal sense.

The problem, Ryo had informed me while I absently traced my face, trying to reassure myself that yes, I _did_ still have eyebrows, was control.

"It has to be second-nature to you, or it'll just keep blowing up in your face."

"Any advice on how to do that?" And, because I'd come to expect it, I said preemptively, " _besides_ years of study and practice?"

Kai had shut his open mouth, and Ryo had recommended the exercise that currently had me falling on my ass. The challenge was to balance in handstand on only one finger, using my energy to support myself. Supposedly this was to increase my spiritual strength and help me regulate the flow of my energy, but in the first few days I attempted it I began to suspect that the exercise was designed less for my improvement and more for Ryo's amusement. But En and Kai assured me the exercise was valid, so I stuck with it, going for longer and longer times without falling down.

Until times like now, when I exhausted myself so much I couldn't last for more than a few minutes. Determined, I pushed myself off the floor and prepared to begin again.

"Ren. Stop." It was an order from Kai. He didn't often speak so firmly, and when he did it was usually a warning to stop before I hurt myself, so I paused and gave him my full attention. He rose from his seat on his cot and approached the bars. He halted maybe two feet back, standing tall and relaxed, eyes calm.

"Match my movements." Kai raised his arms. Curiously, I raised my own, mirroring him. Kai moved his arms slowly, pushing and pulling motions like gentle waves on a beach. He turned, and his movements flowed, and I replicated the smooth movements as best I could.

I expected Kai to explain what he was doing, explain how I should be using my energy, but he said nothing. Growing impatient after what felt like half an hour of gentle, flowing movement, I asked, "What next?"

"Nothing," Kai said, voice as low and calm as the waves his movements emulated. "You continue like this. Then you eat, and then you rest."

I halted abruptly, staring at Kai accusingly. "How is this supposed to help, then?"

Kai stopped moving now as well, looking slightly disappointed. "By exercising your body, and resting your spirit."

"I'm not trying to _rest_ my spirit," I spat, half incredulous, half angry. "I'm trying to make it _stronger_."

Kai eyed me silently for a moment. "You are on your school's track team, are you not?" The oddness of the question, combined with Kai's overly-optimistic use of the present tense, threw me off, but I nodded nonetheless.

"What happens to runners who run hard, every day, without rest?" Kai asked patiently. I frowned, beginning to see where he was going with this. "Are they stronger? Faster?"

I clenched my jaw for a moment, but couldn't help answering truthfully. "No." There was always one or two new kids on the track team who pushed themselves too hard in an attempt to improve, or to impress their _senpai_. It never worked out in the long run.

"Why not?"

Because they didn't allow themselves time to recover, they never improved. They were more prone to injury, and because they were without rest, they couldn't perform at their best. "...They burn out."

Kai nodded sagely, a small smile tugging at his lips. But only for a moment, before his gaze turned serious, earnest. "I understand you feel a sense of urgency about this, and we all want to help you as much as we can. But working until you collapse will do you no favors."

I did not want to admit that Kai was right, because that would mean that I had to rest. Resting meant that I had time to think, and when I had time to think, my thoughts were dark.

Dwelling on being trapped in this cage. Memories of my deaths in Ichigaki's labs. Wondering what would have happened if I'd died. If it would be better than what Ichigaki had planned for me. Wondering if I would die anyway, permanently, if I didn't live up to whatever expectations that mad doctor had for me.

It was the final fear that had me nodding and following Kai's movements again. Because if I didn't rest, I wouldn't get stronger. And if I didn't get stronger, I might not survive.

And so I matched Kai's movements, and breathed deeply, and tried not to dwell on why I was doing it.


	3. Three Monsters

"Are you okay?" En's eyes were wide, and his voice was high with surprise. He was so surprised, in fact, that he'd broken one of our little group's unspoken rules: don't talk to each other until M4 and M5 were gone.

Judging by En's outburst, Kai's furrowed brow, and Ryo's dark glare at the demons accompanying me, I must have looked a sight. I knew there was at least some blood on my face, and a number of deep scratches on my arms. My limbs were tender and heavy, already becoming swollen and red with forming bruises, and my ribs ached with every step.

Before this nightmarish ordeal, such injuries would have had be sore and healing for weeks. Now, thanks to my burgeoning psychic powers and En's tutelage, I figured I'd be back on my feet in two or three days, at most.

I began learning to heal myself a few weeks ago when, instead of drawing my blood, M4 and M5 took me to an indoor obstacle course. The place was large, the size of a small gymnasium, maybe, all concrete with ropes and cement blocks and metal shipping containers forming obstacles and barriers. For the first few days I simply ran the course as instructed while Doctor Ichigaki watched with beady eyes.

Then, the fourth time I ran the course, M4 and M5 gave chase.

I had not been prepared. Doctor Ichigaki wanted us alive for his experiments, after all, so I wasn't expecting him to order his minions to attack me. And while I was faster than the both of them, the obstacles in the course slowed me down and drove me into corners. M4 and M5, though sloppy, impulsive fighters, had the advantage of sharp claws and teeth to swipe at me. I, on the other hand, had never so much as punched someone in my life. And though I'd been working hard at improving my spirit powers, I only had the strength to lob one or two orbs at the demons before I ran out of energy.

Ichigaki must have had the sense to tell M4 and M5 to hold back a little, because they hadn't broken any bones or cut any major arteries. Still, they'd had their fun. They seemed to enjoy drawing blood the most, because while they weren't allowed to kill or eat me—however much they assured me that they'd very much _like_ to—they could lick as much of my blood off their claws as they managed to spill.

When I'd returned to the cells, battered and bruised and covered in shallow cuts, En had begun to coach me on yet another useful aspect of spiritual powers: accelerated healing. I wasn't very quick at it, but if I focused, I could rid myself of bruises and heal all my cuts to faded lines by the time the doctor and his servants called on me again.

Ryo waited for M4 and M5 to leave, listening for the sound of the heavy metal door closing, before he remarked bitterly, "They're not pulling their punches anymore."

I shook my head in denial. "This isn't their work." I crossed to the sink and wett a rag so I could wipe off some of the blood that was becoming tacky and dry before returning to the bars to continue, "I came a little too close to taking M4's head off in our last 'exercise', apparently..."

I had improved at fighting much quicker than I had at healing; M4 and M5 were not particularly intelligent, nor were they fast. Once I got a sense of their moves and had memorized the layout of the obstacle arena, I had a distinct advantage as long as I stayed out of reach of their claws. When one of my orbs had come within inches of M4's head, blasting a hole in a shipping container, Doctor Ichigaki had looked ridiculously pleased; proud, even. I suspected then that he might even have congratulated me if I _had_ managed to kill the demon. But after the near miss, I doubted M4 or M5 would be keen on fighting me again anytime soon. Not in a fair fight, at least.

"...so I got to fight a giant robot instead."

Ichigaki had bragged about the robot for a good long while before he'd set the thing to attack her.

"It's remarkably strong, and nearly indestructible," the Doctor had said through grinning needle teeth, patting the robot fondly. He looked like a demented toy next to the thing, with it towering at a height of at least ten feet, and the Doctor being the shriveled runt that he was. "It feels no pain, no emotions. It has no will, except the will to obey its master. The perfect killing machine!"

The Doctor's voice had risen for a moment, filling the obstacle arena like he was addressing a crowd, presenting his masterpiece to the world. His eyes even seemed distant, for a moment, like he was imagining just such a thing. But soon his eyes cleared, and Ichigaki turned to me with a patronizing look.

"For now it has been instructed not to kill you, Nana," Ichigaki said patiently. "But it can still _maim_ you all it likes." Ichigaki smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. "Let's see how you fare."

I fared not well.

It was completely different from M4 and M5. Whatever computer the thing ran on was smarter and quicker than the two demons combined. It was faster, too. Worse, its size and strength meant that the obstacles around the room that slowed me down were little more than nuisances to it, easily tossed aside or torn straight through.

I'd been tossed and battered and stuck many times. I tried fighting back, but the robots swift movements and sharp claws kept me constantly on the defensive. Eventually I gave up fighting and just tried to run, to hide somewhere its bulk wouldn't let it through. Eventually I found the shipping container I'd blasted a hole through when I almost killed M4 and shimmied my way into the hole, pressing inside the back corner of the container and hoping, praying, that the damn thing wouldn't find me.

It did. The thing was too big to fit inside the hole in the shipping container, but that didn't stop it. Its claws gripped the thick metal and tore the opening further, widening the gap I'd made like the container was made of nothing more substantial than construction paper. Trapped as I was in the container, I had nowhere to run from the claw that grabbed me around the middle. It pulled me out of the shipping container in less than a second, and then it _squeezed_.

I screamed. The pressure on my arms and ribs built and built, and I wasn't sure how long it squeezed before Ichigaki finally called it off, striding over to examine my wheezing, huddled form on the ground.

Ichigaki had looked puzzled, at first, before some dawning realization struck him and his lips thinned. "You're in pain," he said lowly. It was not a sympathetic comment. It was closer to a complaint than anything, really. "Of course. How inconvenient."

And then, without further comment, he'd ordered M4 and M5 to drag me back to my cell.

"A robot?"

Ryo was eyeing my injuries critically as I finished wiping off the blood. "How giant was this thing?"

I thought about it. It was _at least_ twice my size, so, "10 or 12 feet."

"Then those marks on your arms—" En said, staring at the angry red slashes and darkening bruises.

"Are from roboclaws, yeah." I looked down at the forming injuries, too, then sighed and assumed a meditative position, preparing to focus my energy towards healing the worst of the damage. As my eyes slid shut I added, "The good doctor assured me that the thing could have snapped me like a twig, had he not programmed it not to."

"That bastard," Ryo spat.

"Why would Ichigaki have a robot like that?" En sounded troubled, and a opened my eyes to frown at the question, wondering what he meant. "I mean… he _is_ a doctor, right? He has to be doing _something_ with all the blood he's taking. Right?"

I highly doubted that Doctor Ichigaki had any kind of real medical credential. While he was certainly doing something with all the blood he was taking, I highly doubted it was in an attempt to produce any sort of medicine or treatment which would heal illness or prolong life.

"But now he's building robots," En continued. "That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Kai, too, looked troubled by En's words. Ryo snorted dismissively. "You're wasting your time trying to make sense of it, En. Ichigaki is just crazy."

I shared glances with Kai and En, who clearly doubted this, but none of us voiced our skepticisms. Ichigaki was crazy, yes. He was completely immoral, possibly sociopathic, and almost certainly insane—but he was never _illogical_. Everything he did had a purpose, a _plan_.

So then, why was Ichigaki experimenting with human psychics _and_ robots? What was the commonality?

Even as I sank into myself and focused my energy on my injuries, a part of me wondered about the fondness in Ichigaki's eyes when he gazed at the robot, and the disdain and disgust that had curled his lip when he watched my pain.

* * *

A week later I was taken to a different section of the lab. The room was a few doors down from where Ichigaki normally drew my blood, and about the same size. But instead of the chair with straps and rolling tables of medical equipment, this room was dominated by some sort of pod.

It was oval in shape, bright white plastic looking shiny and innocent. A glass door opened on hinges and a dark plastic seat was visible within, but despite the high-tech look, there were still the ominous features which set my stomach churning. Restraints lined the edges of the plastic seat, but most horrifying of all, dozens of tiny, shining needles hovered just at the edges.

"Come in, come in!" Ichigaki said cheerily when M4 and M5 led me in. He grinned at my conspiratorially, like I was about to be let in on a big secret. "We have an exciting day ahead of us, Nana."

What Ichigaki found exciting could not possibly be good for me. I swallowed the fear and trepidation rising in my gut and forced a look of polite interest onto my face. I nodded toward the pod. "Does it involve that device, Doctor?"

The Doctor smiled, and I was glad that he turned to look proudly at the thing, because the look made me queasy. "Impressive, isn't it? It's my own design, of course. State-of-the art technology, and durable against spirit energy, of course."

Of course. "What does it do?" I asked. It did not look like a very efficient way of killing someone, which was what Ichigaki seemed to be mainly interested in so far.

"The specifics are far too complex for you to comprehend," Ichigaki said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Still, he continued, "The bath supplies the nutrients and energy your body will need, of course. The electricity will generate strain and tears on targeted muscles groups, while the serum stimulates muscle activation and recovery, in essence condensing years of physical training and conditioning into just half an hour."

Ichigaki turned back to me and grinned that awful grin again. "In short, my dear Nana, I'm going to make you _strong_."

Ichigaki instructed me to climb into the pod. I didn't want to. I wanted to smash Ichigaki's stupid, bulbous head in the door of the thing and blast M4 and M5 out of the doorway and run far, far away. For a moment, I even considered doing it. Surely, by this point, their guards were down? I'd almost killed M4 a while ago. I could take the three of them, couldn't I?

But they would be expecting it. No doubt Ichigaki had some means of subduing me if I made any sudden moves, and just because I could subdue M4 and M5 didn't mean I could make it out of the complex unscathed. I didn't know what other guards or security measures might be in place.

Besides, if Ichigaki really was going to make me strong… wouldn't it be better to save an escape attempt for _after_ he'd done it?

And so, despite every instinct telling me to run, I climbed willingly into the pod, and lay still and cooperative as Doctor Ichigaki strapped me in.

"I should warn you," Ichigaki said once I was secured in the pod, in the tone of someone casually reminding their friend that it might rain today and they should probably bring an umbrella, "the pain will be excruciating."

My mouth went dry. From the corner of my eyes, the gleaming silver needles I'd spotted before seemed bigger, sharper.

"But if you wish to survive the process, you must try not to struggle too much," Ichigaki continued seriously. "Do you understand, Nana?"

Was I about to die? Was I about to die, and the last thing I heard was some demon prick calling me the wrong name?

I swallowed my fear and anger and hate. I nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

"Good." Ichigaki smiled, a small, sharp thing, and removed something from his pocket. "Now, open up." A mouth guard sat in his palm. I stared at it for a few long seconds before slowly opening my mouth. Ichigaki shoved the thing in and nodded, satisfied, when it was secure. "Can't have you biting your tongue in half, can we?"

Ichigaki stepped back. The door to the pod sank closed and sealed with a hiss of air. I waited.

A pale blue liquid flooded into the pod first. The bath Ichigaki had mentioned, I supposed. As the water level rose, I eyed it warily, struggling to breath calmly. I was terrified of drowning, now. After suffocating to death seven times, I could think of few things worse than drowning. But thankfully the angle of the pod covered my body and neck in liquid but left my face free to breath the limited, stuffy air left in the pod.

I was just starting to relax in relief that I wouldn't drown when the needles came. They came all at once, and for a moment it was as if I was being eaten alive. All over my skin, the needles stung and bit into my flesh. I tried to writhe in my pain, which was a terrible idea, because the needles did not move, and I shrieked in agony around the mouthguard at the dozens and dozens of needles digging into my veins.

And then, the serum. I had shrieked at the needles, but the noise that shredded my throat at the injection was near inhuman. It was like the needles had injected molten metal. It was more than burning, more than being on fire—it was heavy, and thick. It didn't so much pulse through my veins as it coated them.

I was sure that I was melting. There was no possible way that my weak body could hold up to whatever poison Ichigaki had just exposed me to. I was sure this burning was igniting my veins, burning them away, liquefying me. In just a moment I was sure that I would dissolve into the pale blue liquid sloshing all around me. I would turn into a bloody jelly, and Ichigaki would have to abduct some other distant Urameshi relative and try again.

Maybe that would have been better. But I didn't liquefy.

I fried.

Because just when the burning, searing pain of the serum was flowing all throughout my body, the electrical shocks began. Conducted through the liquid, my skin crackled and shone with light even as my veins burned, and burned, and burned. My tears mixed with the milky liquid around me. I couldn't tell if I was screaming or not. My mouth was open, and my throat was straining, but all I could hear was the sloshing of the liquid and the wild beating of my heart.

Would I die? Would I die for an eighth and final time? In a way I hoped I would, because at least dead I would be free of the suffering of my body. I wouldn't feel the agony of my tortured muscles, my burnt innards, my fried skin.

I'm not sure how long it lasted. The pain felt like it went on for hours, but it might've only been minutes. But eventually, mercifully, my vision at last went dark.

* * *

After the procedure, I was taken not to my cell, but to the obstacle course. My body felt odd, light and heavy all at once, and I was sure I must have _grown_ a few inches, because I stood level with M4 and M5 as they escorted me.

In the arena, the robot waited. Once again, the battle was a no-contest. This time, though, it was in _my_ favor. The robot seemed to move slower, now. Or perhaps I was simply that much faster. It took me less than five minutes to jump onto the thing's shoulders and yank out the exposed wires at the neck joint, deactivating the thing.

When at last I walked back into my cell under my own power, three inches taller and looking exhausted, Kai was the one who asked, "What happened?"

Eventually, I would tell them. But for now, I was too tired to explain, to recount the events of the last… day? Hours? I didn't know. I flopped down onto my cot and murmured tiredly, "I beat the robot."

Nobody said anything to that. I couldn't tell if the silence was worried or surprised, and couldn't bring myself to care which.

"Kai?"

"Yes, Ren?" I smiled, taking a moment to savor the simple pleasure of hearing my real name.

"Would you tell us a story?"

"Of course," Kai said kindly, then paused. He'd run out of new stories to tell us a while back. "Which would you like to hear?"

"Koinobori."

Kai began.

Many hundreds of years ago, a humble fisherman lived by the sea with his elderly parents. He worked hard to support his family, and they were very poor, but they all got by.

One day, the fisherman went out in his boat to catch fish, as usual. And catch a fish, he did—but not just any fish. The fisherman caught the most splendid fish he had ever seen. It was a carp, but it was more beautiful than any other. Its scales shone every color of the rainbow, glittering like jewels in the sun.

The fisherman knew that if he brought the fish to market, he could earn a hefty price for it. It would be enough to support his family for months, maybe even years.

But the fisherman was a kind-hearted man. Looking at the beautiful fish in his net, he couldn't bring himself to kill it. And so the fisherman set the carp free.

The carp was grateful to be set free. Touched by the fisherman's kindness and mercy, the carp told the fisherman to follow him out to sea, leading him to the best places to fish. With the carp's guidance, the fisherman was able to catch more than double his usual amount of fish—more than enough to feed his family, with extra to sell in the market.

The carp and the fisherman became the best of friends. Every day the fisherman would go out to sea, and every day the carp would meet him, guiding him to the right places to fish.

Then, one day, the fisherman's net caught on something in the ocean. He tugged and tugged, but the net was caught. The carp swam down below the surface to see what had caught the net, and saw that it had snagged in the teeth of an enormous sea monster—and the monster was growing enraged by the fisherman's tugging.

The carp swam to the surface to warn his friend to let go of the net, but it was too late. The monster swam away, and the fisherman, tangled in the net, was pulled into the ocean after it.

The carp swam after them as hard as he could, trying desperately to catch up and help his friend, but he couldn't. He wasn't fast enough, or strong enough.

That's when the fish remembered what his mother had told him.

One day, when he was a young fish, his mother had pointed to a stream that fed into the ocean. An enormous power lay at the end of that stream, she told him, but he must never swim up it, unless he was prepared to die.

The carp knew he would need enormous power if he wanted to save his friend. And just as the fisherman had once spared his life, the carp knew he would gladly give his own life to save the fisherman.

And so, he swam up the stream.

It was hard. He had to fight the current the whole time, but he used all the strength he had, and he slowly made his way up the stream. When he was exhausted, and had almost no strength left, the carp came upon a great waterfall. He was at the bottom, and the only way forward was up. And though he was tired, more tired than he had ever been, the carp knew his friend was in danger.

So he heaved himself up the waterfall. It was slow work. Fish have no legs to help them jump from rock to rock up a waterfall, but the carp tried anyway, heaving himself up, rock after rock, climbing higher and higher.

The carp grew tired. The top of the waterfall was in sight, but he was so exhausted. If he fell now, the stream's current would carry him back to the ocean, where he would recover. If he pressed on, he was sure he would die of exhaustion.

But the carp thought once more of his friend, the fisherman, trapped in a net in the jaws of a sea monster, and he heaved. And heaved. And finally, he heaved himself over the edge of the waterfall.

And like his mother had promised, the carp died in the pool at the top of the waterfall. But in those magic waters, the magic fish was reborn. Not as a carp, but as a mighty dragon, with rainbow scales that shone like gems in the sun.

The dragon returned to the ocean at once, determined to save his friend. He found the sea monster, and for seven days they battled so fiercely that the sea churned with storms. But on the seventh day, the dragon rescued his friend the fisherman from the net. The sea monster fled, and the dragon was able to return the fisherman to the shore.

All was quiet after Kai finished his story. Maybe he thought I'd nodded off, but I hadn't.

I asked a question I'd wondered when Kai told the story the first time. "What happens to the fisherman?"

"The story doesn't say," said Kai. "But I like to think he and the dragon remained friends until the end. And that when the fisherman's son went out to sea, he was sometimes able to find good places to fish by looking for a flash of rainbow scales in the water."

"...I like that ending."

* * *

They took Ryo first.

It was just like any other day. En, Kai, and I all exchanged the usual concerned glances, the same as every other time the doctor took blood from one of us.

We didn't know at the time that the doctor was done taking blood.

Ryo was gone for three full meals. It was an unusually long amount of time, and when he came back he walked under his own power. The demons weren't even holding his arms. Most disturbing, however, was the fact that he was positively _covered_ in blood.

We all spouted questions at once, wanting to know if Ryo was okay and totally ignoring the custom of waiting for M4 and M5 to leave before talking. But it hardly mattered, because no matter what we asked, no matter how many times we asked or how desperately we asked, Ryo never responded to us. He never even turned his head.

"Ren, what's Ryo doing?" Kai finally asked desperately. Myself, Kai, and En were all sat at the bars at the edge of our cells, but only I could see Ryo. "Is he hurt?"

I had been watching him for a while, and what I saw was deeply unsettling. In a way, I was glad that En and Kai couldn't see it. "I don't think so. He's just... sitting there, really still." I thought for a moment, then added, "Unnaturally still. He hasn't even turned his head when we've talked, or moved at all. Not even to wipe off any of that blood. And..."

I trailed off, narrowing my eyes and trying to shift to get a better look at the _thing_.

"And what?" Kai pressed, voice tense.

"I'm not sure how to describe it. I can't get a good look at it, but there's something on his back. Wires, or tubes, or something, going into his neck."

"The blood," En said quietly, desolately. "It's not his, is it?"

It was more a statement than a question, but I answered anyway. "I don't think so. No."

And for these three men, who were so peaceful, and had been taught never to harm another living being, that might have been worse. Because whatever Ichigaki had done to Ryo, it had been enough to overcome that pacifism to the point that Ryo was drenched in someone else's blood, and utterly unbothered by it.

En was so distraught that he tried to escape again, even though we all knew it was useless. Kai warned him against it, told him to stop, but En wouldn't hear reason. He shot his angel blades at the bars, the floor, the ceiling, the walls, but each time his energy rebounded and struck him, flinging him into the walls.

I watched him exhaust himself, sick with sadness and anger and worry. Eventually En couldn't muster his blades anymore and he sank to the ground, shoulders trembling as he started to cry. I cried, too, and so did Kai.

Ryo did nothing. He just sat there, very, very still.

They took En the next morning. He fought, and me and Kai screamed at M4 and M5, but it didn't matter. En was gone for less time than Ryo, but he came back the same: quiet and covered with blood. I got a better look at the thing on his back this time, and it was foul. It was like a horrible mechanical tick, swollen with blood and sticking its tentacles into En's neck.

Kai and I didn't sleep that night. Though we didn't say so out loud, it was clear that Kai would be next, and soon. And so we sat up in a silent vigil, mourning, until Kai broke the silence in what must have been the early hours of the morning.

"It's like they're empty," Kai said, voice rough. "Like there's nothing left of En and Ryo, like they're just… puppets."

 _Puppets_ wasn't the word I would use. No, I thought of them more as _robots_.

Because that's what Ichigaki wanted, wasn't it? The pride with which he'd described his giant robot, boasting that it experienced no pain, no emotion.

"It has no will of its own, except the will to obey," I said, echoing Ichigaki's words from that day. "He did say he wanted to harness human energy like never before." And now, it seemed, I saw exactly what Ichigaki meant by that.

"And what does he plan to do with it, once he's harnessed it?" Kai asked, voice trembling.

I didn't answer him. I didn't need to. The blood that had drenched En and Ryo, the blank expressions on each of their faces, was answer enough.

* * *

When they came for me, I resolved to fight.

I planned it out silently in my mind when they took Kai, repeating the plan over and over. I would only have one chance. One moment, the briefest second, where the demons would have to uncuff me before I was secured to the operating table, when I would be free to move and use my powers. I would have to be quick, impossibly quick, and incredibly lucky, but I thought it was possible. Ever since Ichigaki had made me strong, I was very fast. If I could just overpower Ichigaki and his demons, I could escape. I could break En, Ryo, and Kai out of here, and yank those awful devices out of them.

The plan was the only thing that let me keep calm and focused when Kai—kind, gentle, fatherly Kai—returned drenched in someone else's blood.

It seemed like only minutes after Kai was returned to his cell that the demons came for me. I stood and walked calmly. I didn't fight as they put on the energy-suppressing cuffs. I didn't struggle as they led me toward the labs. When I was ushered into the lab, my stomach leapt, part nervous excitement, part fear. The room looked precisely the same as it had the first time I woke in this place. The night I died.

Ichigaki watched from a high stool as M4 and M5 ushered me toward the table and hissed at me to lay down. It was clear I was meant to lie on my stomach for this—the table had a hole in it, for my face, presumably. I lowered myself down as best I could with my hands secured behind my back, and I held my breath.

It had to be now. They had to remove the cuffs to stop me to the table. It would take a second, at most. One second.

The cuffs snapped off.

M4 and M5 slammed into the lab walls with the explosion of energy I released. It was wholly unskilled, the psychic equivalent of waving my arms wildly and slapping everyone away. I didn't wait to see if they were knocked out as I rolled off the table; the most dangerous of them all was Ichigaki. I had to take him out first. There would be time to deal with M4 and M5 when Ichigaki was down, and then I go back for En, Ryo, and Kai.

When I made eye contact with Ichigaki, he was already leveling a small gun at my heart. He grimaced as he pulled the trigger and I jolted to the side, nearly tripping over myself as I leapt out of the projectile's path. Not a bullet, but a needle.

The first dart missed. Ichigaki fired again, and once again I dodged. I had to get the gun out of his hands, somehow. There was nothing to throw, and limited space to run. As I backpedaled away from a third dart, I narrowly avoided tripping over M4.

And now, I had something to throw.

I was strong, now. I hefted the demon's limp body easily and hurled him at Ichigaki. A fourth dart struck M4 before his body collided with Ichigaki and they both tumbled to the floor with a clatter.

I started to make my way over—I had to end Ichigaki now, kill him before he recovered.

A clawed hand clutched my ankle. I froze for half a second too long. M5 tugged, and I crashed to the floor.

"You bitch." M5 looked livid and ecstatic, mouth stretched in a sharp-toothed, too-wide snarl. And I learned why when the taser made contact.

The familiar smell of burning flesh rose in the air immediately, and I couldn't contain a scream. My muscles jerked and shook of their own accord, completely out of my control. I could feel my eyes rolling, my jaw snapping uselessly. With what little control I had over my rebellious limbs I struggled and flopped, trying to break the contact between the device and my skin, but M5 pressed it in hard, unyielding.

Eventually the pain ended, but it was no relief. Because when I opened my eyes, there was Ichigaki, gleaming needle in hand, eyes cold.

"You disappoint me, Nana." He jabbed the needle into my neck. "I thought you were cleverer than the others, more open-minded about the possibilities of science. But in the end, you're just like all the other lab rats."

Ichigaki depressed the plunger, and the world went fuzzy, then dark.


	4. First Fight

I slept through the procedure. When I woke, I could not see the horrible contraption embedded in my back, but I could feel it. And I didn't need to see it, anyway. I had seen what the thing looked like, and what it could do.

I woke completely unrestrained on the table, and I knew that I should seize the moment of relaxed security to try overpower Ichigaki again and escape. I should jump off the table, knock Ichigaki out with some of the heavy medical equipment in the lab, and run out the door.

I _knew_ I should do that. But I couldn't will my body to do it. I knew I should try to escape, but I didn't want to. Staring up at the bright lights of the lab, completely free of restraints, I didn't want to do anything but lay there. All I wanted was...

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Protect Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents._

And then Doctor Ichigaki commanded me to sit up and my body moved without a thought. I knew I didn't really want to obey, not deep down, but the desire to _Obey Doctor Ichigaki_ was so irresistible that my arms pushed up and my legs swung down, efficiently following his command. It was not unlike the out-of-body experience I'd had while I was ever-so-briefly dead—only this time, instead of watching my dead body from the outside, I was trapped inside a body that was completely out of my control.

Ichigaki ordered me to stand and follow him. I obeyed. As we walked I found I could move my eyes, though I couldn't speak or turn my head. At first I thought we might return to the cell block, where I could silently ponder my new prison within a prison, but we did not go back to the cells.

We came instead to a large, bare room. Rough concrete walls, tiled floors, no furniture. Two doors, the one we entered through and one on the opposite wall. It might have been a disused event space were it not for the dark splatters across the walls. The sight of that blood worried me, which was another odd sensation, because although I felt it in my soul, my stomach didn't lurch. My palms didn't sweat. My heart didn't skip a beat.

"I am excited to see how you perform in this test, Nana," said Ichigaki. He was chuckling, but he still looked vaguely irritated. I was able to slide my eyes sideways to look at him, and I felt a small sense of normalcy at being able to control that small motion, at least.

"The others did very well, but there was some strong resistance to my veruki that likely interfered with their performance. Pacifists," Ichigaki spat the word like a curse. "But I do hope we won't have the same trouble with you."

Ichigaki pressed a button on a small remote he had clutched in his monstrous fingers, and a moment later the door on the opposite side of the room opened. Ichigaki's two demon servants appeared in the doorway and shoved a bedraggled-looking man into the room before slamming the door shut once more. The ragged man stumbled and fell to his knees, then picked himself up slowly. He shook slightly, sweating and darting his eyes between me and Ichigaki.

With dread, I remembered that the others hadn't simply returned with veruki on their backs. They'd also been drenched in blood. Blood that wasn't theirs.

"Please," the man gasped, talking to Ichigaki. He held one arm at an odd angle, and I noticed now that he appeared to have a few broken fingers in addition to a black eye and some ripped clothing. "I'll have the money soon. I just need a week. One week's all I need, and I'll have the money, please."

Ichigaki looked bored by the man's pleas, but was smug when he turned to me. "Nana, kill this man."

 _No_ , I thought. But it didn't matter what I thought. My thoughts were nothing compared to the repeated commands which had been running through my head ever since I woke, as if they'd been engraved on the inside of my skull.

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents._

My feet began moving. It wasn't that my mind protested while my body moved against its will—it was that the part of me that was truly _me_ was sequestered in a corner of my head, while the portion of me that controlled my body was consumed with a burning need. The need to _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Protect Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents._

The need was undeniable, irresistible. I could no more stop myself from obeying than I could keep from drinking when dying from thirst, or from breathing air. The overwhelming want, the _need_ to kill, had my body moving on instinct while the human part of me which recognized that these urges were foreign and evil screamed in futile protest.

 _No. No, no, no, no, no._

The man I was about to kill echoed my thoughts. "Please, no!" He turned to plead with me now. He had dark eyes, and the beginnings of grey at his temples. He looked remarkably like my father, and I didn't want to kill him. I didn't. But yet, I did. "Please, I have kids! I can get the money, please, I'll do anything—"

I knew the power of my spirit-powered punch could break the bones of Doctor Ichigaki's demon servants. A human's skull would be weaker. It would probably only take one punch. I clenched my fist and gathered my energy.

 _Stop. Stop walking. Stop! STOP!_

But I didn't want to stop. My steps didn't falter. I was upon him now, and I needed to kill him.

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki._

My hand reached down to grip his collar. "Please! Their names are Hideki and Aya—she's only three years old!" My right arm pulled back, my fist glowing gold with spirit energy.

 _STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP_

 _Kill your opponents._

Hot blood sprayed onto my face, coating my hair and clothes. I never even hesitated.

* * *

I'm ashamed to admit I lost track of how many people we killed. At first I was determined to hold onto their faces, to count, to remember—but it quickly became impossible.

We killed too many people for that.

The first kill was just a test of the veruka's control. The nameless man, father of Hideki and Aya, was just some expendable sap who'd owed money to the wrong person. He was nothing more than human, and he hadn't even fought back. His death served no purpose at all but to demonstrate Ichigaki's utter dominance over me.

The deaths that followed had more purpose. Ichigaki pitted me against demons to test my skills. Never M4 or M5, who I wouldn't have minded killing, but others. Some were as foreign-looking as the Doctor's servants, with tails and horns and extra arms, but others looked nearly human. Some tried pleading or reasoning with me. Others attacked immediately. One clever demon, looking very nearly human but for her slit pupils, tried to convince me to rebel and turn my attacks on Doctor Ichigaki.

And oh, how I wanted to listen to her. How I wanted to see _his_ brain matter splatter onto the walls, instead of hers.

But I didn't want it badly _enough_. Not enough to drown out the stronger urge, the primal need to _Obey Doctor Ichigaki_.

And so, she died.

When I'd proven myself solo, I was reunited with Kai, En, and Ryo. It was no sweet reunion, automatons that we were. We could scarcely make eye contact, let alone talk to each other. For all that I was physically closer to the boys than I'd ever been before, I couldn't have been farther away from them, or them from me.

But that distance might have been a blessing, considering what the Doctor made us do.

Killing as a team with En, Ryo, and Kai was as easy as breathing. There was no need for words; communication was automatic and unspoken. We knew where the others would be, what needed to be done to swiftly and easily kill our opponents. Day after day, we fought together. Demons and humans alike, groups as small as five and as great as twenty, all fell before us.

Sometimes Ichigaki filmed this. He would smile and nod approvingly, and once I heard him say to himself, satisfied, that, "They will be quite pleased. _Quite_ pleased."

I wondered who 'they' were, and if anyone but Ichigaki could ever be pleased by this much senseless death.

One day M4 escorted me back to what I'd come to think of the 'Killing Room'. I was alone, this time; En, Ryo, and Kai were left back in their cells, all still bodies and empty eyes, like puppets with their strings cut.

Taking me alone was a departure from routine, and departures from routine never boded well. It only ever meant that Ichigaki had finished with one aspect of his plan, and had moved on to his next vile experiment.

When we entered the room, there was only Doctor Ichigaki and his camera. He smiled at me, eyes glittering, like he could not quite contain his anticipation for whatever was to come.

"Excellent. Perfect timing. Nana, come stand here." Ichigaki gestured to the space next to him. My feet brought me there. "M4, the camera, if you please."

M4 stepped behind the camera. His brows furrowed a little as he attempted to maneuver the thing with the unwieldy claws at the tips of his fingers, but at last he managed. A small red light blinked on indicated that the thing was recording.

Ichigaki began to speak, with all the oily satisfaction of a used car salesman. "As I have already demonstrated, my veruka is capable of turning any human psychic into the ultimate killing machine. The subjects experience no fear, no pain—no independent thought whatsoever!"

Ichigaki grinned. I stared at the red light, waiting for the inevitable, horrible turn to this home movie.

"Their former identifies have been completely forgotten, their former humanity erased," Ichigaki continued, matter-of-factly.

But it wasn't a matter of fact.

I knew who I was, and it wasn't Nana. I was Ren Nakano. I was a human, and I was screaming, even if no one could hear it. And if the time ever came where this device malfunctioned, where I had a sliver of opportunity to reach out and retake control of my wayward body, I'd make sure Ichigaki learned just how wrong he was.

"But I can't expect you to simply take my word on such a fantastic claim." Ichigaki said. He pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button. "And so, to demonstrate the total dominance of the veruka over the human will, I will force the subject to do something her human mind would find utterly morally reprehensible…"

The door on the opposite side of the room, the one our victims always entered through, slid open. Through it, M5 entered, but he was not alone. In his arms was a struggling, crying little girl.

I knew her purpose, knew what I what I was meant to do to her, even before Ichigaki finished his gleeful pronouncement to the camera. "Killing a defenseless child!"

M5 dropped the girl on the ground, not at all gently. The girl cried out and M5 strode to stand next to M4 behind the camera, ready to watch the show.

The girl sniffed and hiccuped on the floor for a second before looking around the room. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed. She wore a yellow sundress, and her hair was pulled back in pigtails.

She couldn't have been older than four or five.

"Nana." Ichigaki gestured me forward with a flourish. My feet began to move.

 _No._

I had not fought the veruka like this since that first day, since I learned how fruitless it was to struggle, but I couldn't stop now. Despite Ichigaki's cruelty I had never imagined that I would be forced to do something this monstrous, this cruel.

She probably wasn't even old enough to understand death—to understand what was about to happen to her. What _I_ was about to do to her.

The little girl actually brightened at the sight of my approach. Her hiccups faltered and she looked a little hopeful. I was probably the only human face she'd seen in a while. She probably thought I was friendly. Maybe she thought I was there to help her.

Killing her would be easy.

 _No, no, no, no, no._

"Did the monsters steal you, too?" It was a child's whisper. She thought pitching her voice like that made her words a secret, but they were still loud enough to cross the room. When I didn't answer, only kept striding towards her, she looked more uncertain. Maybe she'd finally noticed the emptiness in my eyes.

 _No, no, no._

The girl tried to back up, but she was still on the ground, so it was a slow, awkward scramble. Her eyes were threatening tears again.

With horror, she realized, "You're a monster, too."

I seized her by the neck and hefted her up. She was so light. So small.

She made a wet choking noise, kicking her legs and gripping my arm with her nails, scratching. Tears streamed down her face, ugly ones that turned her face red and made snot run out of her nose.

"S-stop!"

 _Stop._ The word she'd used lodged in my brain and I clung to it. It was like a chink in the power that controlled my body, that held my consciousness back like an impenetrable wall, and I slammed into it desperately, the word as my weapon.

 _Stop, stop, stop, stop,_ _ **STOPSTOPSTOP**_

"Stop, you're hurting me!"

My fingers went slack. The girl tumbled back to the ground, sobbing wildly and scrambling backwards.

I remained still. It was all I could do, the only control I could manage to seize. If I moved, I might return to my programming, might try to kill her again. But as long as I held still, as long as I held on to that word, then she was safe.

Something wet was trickling down my face. I was crying, too, I realized. But where the little girl cried fat, watery tears, what fell on the concrete at my feet was red.

Blood. I was crying blood.

 _You're a monster, too._

Ichigaki was screaming. To M5 he screeched, "Stop her!" Then, to M4, "Sedate her!"

I was tackled to the ground, and M4 pressed a syringe into my neck. My vision blurred. As I fell away from the world I heard crying, and cursing, and Ichigaki's final, furious order: "Destroy that tape!"

I woke on the operating table. My head felt lighter, colder, and I had the peculiar sensation of knowing what the air felt like on the exposed flesh of my neck. Had the veruka not been lodged in my back, I would undoubtedly have been in horrible pain.

"...nothing wrong with my veruka at all." Ichigaki was talking aloud as he worked. He was using the detached, clinical voice he used when he was recording himself as he worked, but beneath that was an undertone of deep irritation. "The subject's energy has developed a corrosive quality. Whether this is innate, or a sort of immune response to the invasion of the veruka, I'm not yet sure… in any case, I have reinforced the machinery, added additional entry points in the subject's neck, and increased the number of nanobots in circulation. There should be no more resistance."

He was right.

When I was faced once more with the same little girl, looking thin and battered and terrified, I fought just as hard to stop. But this time, there was no fighting the veruka.

* * *

Weeks later, another change to routine. We were led to an underground garage and piled into the back of a windowless van. We drove for perhaps an hour, and when we emerged, there was sunlight and sea air.

It was unsettling. It seemed wrong to be out of the lab, to walk freely under the sun when we were the farthest thing from _free_. We didn't belong out in public, out in the daylight. Monsters like us belonged in darkened cells and underground labs… not on a pier.

Neither Doctor Ichigaki nor either of his servants explained the change in scenery to us, but as we followed them around the deck and the doctor chatted with humans and demons alike, I was able to gather that we were on our way to something called a Dark Tournament, and that apparently we would be fighting to the death in it.

In a way, that was a relief. And if we were truly going up against demons, then perhaps some of them would succeed in killing us. I began assessing the other passengers on the boat, wondering if one of them would kill me.

Against my will, a small flicker of hope lit in my chest. I watched the sun glitter on the waves, breathed in the salt water misting my face, and wished with everything I had that I would die.

For a moment, I even fantasized about tipping myself over the railing, falling into the dark water and ending it all right there. But I couldn't. The veruka would never allow such a thing. I would have to wait.

When we reached the island, Ichigaki hobnobbed with the wealthy humans who sponsored the tournament, bragging about the success of his experiments and trying to find buyers for his veruki while Kai, En, Ryo, and myself trailed behind him like living dolls.

While the Tournament had apparently been created to watch teams of demons fight to death for the entertainment of wealthy humans, these people seemed unconcerned about us, fellow humans who were clearly brainwashed by the doctor. They probably didn't care. If they were willing to watch demons rip each other to bloody shreds, why not humans too?

Killing them was just the same, as I'd learned.

These men in their sharp suits, the women in fancy dresses and dripping jewels, they never worried that they themselves would be controlled like I was controlled, or ripped to shreds like I'd ripped others to shreds. I thought more than once about slitting their throats and watching the smug satisfaction on their faces disappear. I couldn't tell if those fantasies originated from the veruka or my own mind. I was beginning to wonder if there was any point in fighting so hard to maintain that distinction.

"Ah, Sakyo! And Butajiri! Just the men I was hoping to see!" The wealthy humans parted easily before Ichigaki, noses turned up in disgust. I, in turn, felt disgust for the party-goers, whose distaste clearly stemmed from Ichigaki's grotesque appearance rather than his vile actions.

The men Ichigaki approached were clearly wealthier and more important than the average attendee of the party, judging by the ring of deferent men and women surrounding them. Sakyo was a younger man, perhaps only in his early 30s, with long dark hair, a sharp suit, and a vertical scar which slashed over the right side of his face. Whatever had done it had clearly missed his eye, though, because both dark blue eyes were sharply focused on Ichigaki. Butajiri was older, probably in his 50s, dressed in an obnoxiously bright suit and reeking of tobacco.

"Doctor Ichigaki," Sakyo acknowledged with a nod when Ichigaki drew close enough. He looked bored as he looked over Ichigaki's shoulder to survey me and the boys standing behind him. "I see you managed to find funding for your little project after all."

Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised that someone would fund Ichigaki's experiments, but I was. Now, seeing the dozens of wealthy humans funneling money into this dark underworld, I wondered if someone standing in this room could be responsible for giving Ichigaki the resources to turn me into a killing machine.

Butajiri looked mildly interested at Sakyo's words. "Oh really? These are some of your experiments, then?"

"Yes, I did find investors who could see the value in my project," Ichigaki sneered, an unspoken _No thanks to you_ hanging in the air. "And it worked exactly as I predicted. These four are completely under my control."

Sakyo gave a lazy, lizard-like blink. Butajiri hummed interestedly, lighting a match and puffing on a cigar until it smoked. He tossed the spent match away carelessly and it landed in a potted plant nearby.

"Completely under your control, you say?" He peered at each of our blank faces in turn, resting his beady gaze on me for a few seconds longer than the boys before returning his gaze to Ichigaki. "And they'll do anything you say?"

"Absolutely anything," Ichigaki agreed smugly. "Would you care for a demonstration?"

"Please."

"M1, do a handstand." Ichigaki commanded. En complied immediately, bending over and flipping his legs into the air perfectly straight, nearly toppling a passing waiter carrying a tray of champagne. Some of the nearby humans tittered and turned to watch the conversation at the display.

"Impressive," Butajiri admitted around his cigar.

"I suppose," Sakyo said doubtfully, still looking bored. "But it isn't exactly a grand demonstration of overcoming a human's free will, now, is it?"

Ichigaki let out an irritated chuckle. "I see you're a smart man, Sakyo, but I assure you that their wills are completely subjugated. For example—M2, hold your breath." Kai stopped breathing, and I watched, concerned, as he didn't draw breath even as his fingers trembled and his face started to lose color.

"You see?" Ichigaki said smugly. "He won't breathe again unless I tell him to, not even when he slips into unconsciousness. If I don't command it, he'll simply die of asphyxiation." The surrounding humans watched, interested. Only when Kai's eyes showed signs of drooping shut and he began to sway on his feet did Ichigaki give him permission to breathe again.

"That is impressive," Sakyo agreed, though he looked a little put out that Ichigaki had hadn't simply let Kai pass out or die. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his suit jacket and tapped one out. Ichigaki produced a lighter and handed it to Ryo, smiling smugly.

"M3, light Sakyo's cigarette." Ryo mechanically took the lighter and proffered it to Sakyo, who leaned in to light his cigarette and then pulled back, looking amused as he glanced at En, who was even now still in his handstand, though his face was growing pink.

"And the girl?" Butajiri eyed me with interest, gaze lingering on my legs and my chest—though they were hardly on display, in the rough gi I'd been provided with for clothes. The pig was old enough to be my father.

Ichigaki grinned a sharp-toothed grin. "Of course. Nana, give Mr. Butajiri a kiss."

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki._

Butajiri looked smugly pleased as I leaned in. I, too, was pleased, but only because Ichigaki hadn't been specific. While he could override my will completely, I had learned that I was sometimes able to interpret vague orders as I wished. With a blank face, I placed a short kiss on Butajiri's cheek and returned to my place behind Ichigaki. Butajiri frowned a little, and Sakyo's dark eyes fastened on me with more interest than he'd shown for the rest of the conversation.

"Is that her real name?" Sakyo asked. "Not M4?"

Ichigaki smiled again, looking pleased. "Noticed that, did you? No, Nana is the code name, but she is a special case. You see, M1, 2, and 3 were all accomplished psychics before I got my hands on them. Nana here was just an ordinary school girl, until I _made_ her a psychic."

" _Made_ her a psychic?" Butajiri repeated, his dissatisfaction at my innocent peck replaced with curiosity as he glanced back at me again, gaze more clinical than sexual now.

"I take it you don't mean through years of study," Sakyo drawled, puffing smoke.

"Yes, that's right. I was able to take advantage of the human propensity to unleash their psychic abilities after near-death experiences." Ichigaki shot me a mildly irritated look. "It wasn't simple, though. I had to kill her _seven times_ before her spirit powers woke within her. I feared she might have permanent brain damage from being killed so many times, but she seems to have suffered no ill effects."

"Fascinating." Sakyo's dark eyes were glittering with something darker than simple amusement. I hoped Ichigaki would wrap up his little show soon, before we were forced to do anything else.

"Why are you showing off now, anyway, Doctor?" Asked Butajiri. "Surely it'd be better to keep your experiments a secret until the Tournament to protect your advantage?"

"Of course not," Ichigaki scoffed. "I have calculated the risks, and this information could hardly be used against my experiments. Their odds of victory are too great."

Sakyo puffed on his cigarette with a lazy smirk. "We'll see."

* * *

If the first round of the tournament was any indication, none of us would be killed any time soon.

Kai went first, then En, then Ryo. He took off the opposing demon's head as easily as popping the top off a can of soda, winning the first round of the tournament. It took less than ten minutes, all in all.

"Three to zero." One of the surviving opponents, a scrawnier thing with spikes coming out of his head, shuddered in relief at the opposite edge of the ring, speaking to his teammate. "We're lucky."

"I don't care about the match," growled the teammate. He was larger, at least eight feet tall. More than anything he resembled a minotaur. "I want vengeance!"

He roared, and then he charged.

"Nana," Ichigaki said fondly. He looked far too pleased with himself. "Take care of him, won't you?"

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents._

I took half a step forward and lobbed an orb of energy at the demon's head. It was far to quick for the lumbering thing to dodge and in less than a second his head exploded as easily as popping a balloon. Bits of bone and brain matter splattered the floor of the ring. As the demon's body tumbled forward, heavy as a falling tree, I was sprayed with brownish blood.

As I returned to Ichigaki's side, crossing the rainbow of multi-colored demon blood that had been painted by the gentle, kind-hearted men I'd grown to care for in Ichigaki's cells, I felt the hope which had kindled within me on the boat die.

If these demons were a sampling of what was to come in the Tournament, I feared we would survive this, after all.


	5. Trial by Light

"Hello! What's your name?"

The girl was like a little bird, tiny and hopping and twittering happily. Her eyes were a warm honey brown, her hair, so black it shone blue, pulled up in pigtails. She'd be a looker if she grew up.

"Monsters took me," she said, looking sad for a moment, then brightened. "But it's alright, because you're here now! You'll save me, won't you?" I walked closer and the girl flashed a gap-toothed smile.

I reached out to touch her. I wanted to pet her hair, to reassure her, but instead my fingers closed around her tiny throat. She whimpered immediately, tears welling in her eyes. "Stop! Let go, you're hurting me!" She struggled and kicked. "I said, STOP!"

My fingers released her, and she fell. But instead of crying and scrambling away, now the girl jumped on top of me, her own tiny, delicate hands digging into _my_ neck now.

" _Monster,_ " she spat, fat tears fell from her face and slid down my cheeks as she squeezed my windpipe. "Monster, monster, monster, monster—"

I sucked in a breath as my eyes shot open. The girl's voice echoed in my brain for only a moment before it was drowned out by the usual refrain.

 _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Protect Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents._

I donned one of the plain, cheap martial arts uniforms Ichigaki had supplied me with and joined the boys in the main room, where we mechanically ate breakfast under Ichigaki's beady gaze before we were commanded to the stadium once more.

It was once again a beautiful day. Birds sang merrily in the trees, and a pleasant wind swept over the island from the water. I smelled blood on the breeze, but wasn't sure if it was real, or just my imagination.

Ichigaki led us through the long, dim tunnel which led into the ring, and we arranged ourselves in a neat line beside Doctor Ichigaki. As we emerged to the roaring of the crowd I noticed, for the first time, that M4 and M5 were missing.

Looking across the ring, I counted only three opponents. My puzzled assessment of the group as a whole halted when I spotted the name of the opposing team displayed on the stadium's massive screen.

Urameshi.

There was no way that was a coincidence. That name was the reason Ichigaki had abducted me in the first place, and I found myself scanning the three across the ring, looking for familiar features.

There.

I knew it in my bones when I saw him. Dark hair, slicked back away from his face. Big brown eyes, precisely the same shade as my mother's, but angrier than I'd ever seen them before. He was shorter than me by a few inches, and I remembered suddenly that Ichigaki had said he was only fourteen.

Fourteen, and about to die—unless he could kill us before we killed him.

I assessed Yusuke's team critically. There was Yusuke, a taller boy with a bleached pompadour, and a small figure with a mask on its face. Was their team composed entirely of children? And where were their other team members?

The tall boy was muttering in Yusuke's ear, and whatever was said brought a troubled, dark expression to Yusuke's face, but before he could respond, the demon announcer, Koto, moved to begin the fight. "Team captains, please decide the terms for battle!"

Ichigaki's voice dripped with ill-concealed amusement as he stepped forward. "Isn't this mysterious—both our teams are missing members!"

It wasn't mysterious at all. Sending M4 and M5 to catch the other members of Yusuke's team unaware was just the sort of underhanded tactic I'd come to expect from the doctor. And though I wanted desperately to shout that information at Yusuke, to tell him to run far, far away, that desire was quashed, as always, but the unavoidable mandate to _Obey Doctor Ichigaki._

"What do you say we fight with the people we have and the winner is the best of three?" Ichigaki proposed, as if he hadn't planned it this way from the start.

"What about you," snarked Yusuke, voice dry, "don't the ugly pointed eared trolls like to fight too?"

I decided I liked my cousin.

Ichigaki snickered, unbothered by the jab. "Only when we have to, boy. I prefer the managing position. Never any reason to do the work when you can watch someone else do it for you, hence the guinea pigs!" Ichigaki gestured grandly to the four of us.

Yusuke's eyes darkened. "So it's true." Had Yusuke heard that we were being controlled by Dr. Ichigaki? I supposed it wasn't too surprising that word had gotten around, after the display Ichigaki made of us on arrival on the island.

In true villain fashion, Ichigaki couldn't resist the opportunity to monologue. "They say that the spirit energy the human body is capable of producing is far greater than that of an apparition—a fierce monster of power locked within you all. It's only the human conscience that keeps this power at bay. Take away free will, and the monster will say hello."

Yusuke clenched his fists. "How about ass-kicking, do they say that, too?"

"Every genius has his critics," Ichigaki dismissed, not sounding at all put out by Yusuke's lack of enthusiasm. "I am but an inventor seeking to create the perfect fighting vehicle. No compassion or fear to hold him back, a human's spirit power on cruise control!"

"Does it come with A/C?"

That one irritated Ichigaki. He gnashed his teeth and thrust an accusing finger in Yusuke's direction. "Mock me all you want! It'll be a different story when _you're_ the one I'm controlling!"

And there it was. The end game.

"Say what?" Yusuke blurted, brow furrowing.

"Let's make this interesting. Your power fascinates me—if my team wins, I get to use your body." Ichigaki chuckled at this proposition, as if it was something very clever he'd just thought of, rather than a plot he'd been dreaming up for months.

Yusuke, the idiot, didn't even hesitate. "Why not? And if my team wins, we get to rip off your face!"

Ichigaki chuckled, smugly assured of his own victory. "Yes, I can live with that."

The tiny masked fighter interjected before the rules could be finalized and the match started. "I have one more condition." Ichigaki grunted, listening. "We combine the matches into a battle royale. One fight determines it all."

 _That is a terrible idea_ , said the part of me that was still human. _Kill your opponents_ , purred the veruka.

"Hold on, little guy, you mean all three of us fighting all four of them in the ring at the same time?" The tall one asked. "At least one of 'em should sit out, so the numbers are even." The masked fighter shook her head in denial, standing firm in her suggestion.

"Perhaps," Ichigaki hedged, turning from Team Urameshi and mumbling to himself as he punched numbers on his calculator. Whatever he found must have pleased him, because his form shook with barely suppressed laughter when he turned back around, grinning. "I will accept! Your masked friend drives a hard bargain." He dissolved into laughter again.

Yusuke looked like he'd sooner skip the fight against us and go straight to ripping Ichigaki's face off, but the doctor left the ring and our team lined up, ready for the match to start. All around us the volume in the stadium swelled, scores of demons calling for Team Urameshi's violent, bloody death.

 _Kill the humans_ , many of them cried. Surely they realized that we were human, too? Or perhaps they didn't care, so long as Dr. Ichigaki was pulling our strings.

Koto danced into the middle of the ring, raising her hand to call our attention. "Okay, everyone, it's decided: battle royale! Last team with a standing member wins. Ready?" Koto looked at each team in turn. Yusuke and his teammates nodded gravely. We did nothing.

"Begin!"

We launched into movement. En led the strike, as was our pattern, his illusory energy rings scattering and disorienting our opponents. Kai, Ryo, and I followed, chasing after our opponents as they scattered. Ryo was the only one of us who had no ranged attack, and so when possible he pursued the slowest target—in this case, the boy with the pompadour.

I was the quickest, so I went after the most agile opponent: the mysterious masked fighter. Where Yusuke's and the other boy dodged and shouted and scrambled, the fighter in the mask flitted around the ring like a hummingbird, light and small and changing direction almost faster than the eye could see. None of the energy I threw in her direction ever hit its target. This was fortunate, because wherever the energy landed in the ring, the stone hissed and sizzled.

It was an unfortunate side effect of my energy's attempts to fight off the veruka. As Ichigaki had noted, my energy had begun to corrode the machine and the nanobots pulsing through my blood, but now it corroded everything _else_ , too.

"This is _brutal_!" Koto was practically crowing. "The Urameshi Team is completely on the defensive—it's run or be obliterated!"

The masked fighter darted toward her teammates to exchange a few quick words, but we didn't give them time to chat. En sent his angel blades towards the group again, and all three dodged in different directions. This time the masked fighter leapt away from me, towards Kai, but the tall boy scrambled in my direction. I took aim.

"Kuwabara!" The masked fighter shouted across the ring. "Don't let her energy hit you!"

I lobbed an orb of energy in the boy's direction, and it grazed his leg as he hopped out of the way. He cried out in surprise as his pant leg started to smoke and dissolve. "Agh! It's like acid!"

"Keep moving!" the masked fighter barked at him as she flipped out of Ryo's reach. "She's fast!"

Obediently, Kuwabara scrambled into motion. Robotically, I pursued.

"Ah, come on!" Kuwabara shouted as I took another shot at him. He brought his sword up like a baseball bat and knocked my orb out of the ring. It landed in the stands with a small eruption of pained screams. "I don't wanna hit a girl! Especially not a mind-controlled one!"

Kuwabara backpedaled, but he should have checked where he was going. He stood right in the path of Kai's javelin, and it struck true, knocking the kid high into the air. Only a quick, creative use of his spirit sword kept him in the ring, but it might have been better off if he'd been knocked out. Then, at least, he'd be safe.

Kuwabara landed roughly on the ground as Ryo launched in his direction, hand glowing with violent red energy. I took after the masked fighter, who had evaded En and was now the one most capable of rescuing her teammate.

"Not on my watch!" Yusuke made a gun with his fingers. He aimed at Ryo and his hands shook, but nothing happened. No spirit gun blast appeared. By the time Yusuke realized his distance attack would fail, he was too late to run to intercept Ryo.

The masked fighter diverted our game of cat and mouse in Kuwabara's direction. It left her open, and I shot an orb of energy at her. She evaded it by a hair and still managed to deliver a swift kick to Ryo's jaw at the last second. It was lucky she had. If Ryo's attack had landed, Kuwabara would have been obliterated.

"Wow, that was awesome!" Kuwabara exclaimed, relieved as he finally climbed to his feet.

Taking the time to kick Ryo away from her teammate had allowed me to catch up. I readied another orb to throw, but then, unexpectedly, the mask fighter launched herself right at me. She was tiny, but _strong_ , and in less than a second she'd grabbed me, spun, and flung me across the ring, where I collided with En and Kai, knocking them down with the force of the impact.

We recovered quickly enough, though. The veruki had us working together like a machine, closing in on the Urameshi team, which was struggling just to keep up. We closed in once again, and I heard the distant mutters of my teammates.

"Kill... kill... kill."

 _Kill your opponents._

Kuwabara flapped his arms at us frantically, eyes wild. "Hold on a minute, guys, are you sure you want to do that? I know on the inside you don't!"

There was no other response we could give him. We attacked. The boy tried to knock away our attacks with his spirit sword, with only partial success. "One at a time!"

The masked fighter knocked Yusuke out of the path of Ryo's grisly claw, but she wasn't quick enough to evade the attack herself. She took the brunt of the blast and skidded several yards out of the ring.

Koto hopped out of the ring to follow after her excitedly. "In a selfless act unprecedented in the Dark Tournament, the Masked Fighter has taken a direct hit from M3 in order to save his teammate! Naturally I'll go check on the gruesomeness of his injuries."

Now Yusuke and Kuwabara were alone, unprotected by their more skilled teammate. "Kill," we chanted again as we advanced.

"Do it noooow!" Ichigaki crowed, and we prepared to attack again at his encouragement.

"Come on you guys, just snap out of it!" Kuwabara said, desperately. "You still have your feelings! You don't have to listen to that Doctor!"

I wondered what part of _mind control_ this kid didn't understand. No amount of reasoning with us or pleading with us would stop us. Only death could do that.

They would have to kill us. We _wanted_ them to kill us.

"Do it now!" En parroted, launching his angel blades at the Yusuke and Kuwabara.

Ichigaki chuckled as the boys hastily scrambled out of the way. "Give my invention its credit, dear boy, it's scientifically impossible for a person to resist the control of the veruka! It's zero percentage! Try your feely mumbo-jumbo all you want, the fact is _I'm_ in control and _I_ make them kill!"

A pretty blue-haired woman had appeared at the side of the ring, shouting at Yusuke and Kuwabara to, "Get in there and fight! I don't care if they're under control, they're still going to kill you!"

Kuwabara ran to talk to her. I turned towards my nearest opponent: Yusuke.

So far I'd been occupied with Kuwabara or the masked fighter, but with the other boy occupied and the masked fighter still recovering from being thrown from the ring, I was left to pursue my cousin.

Looking at Yusuke was a little like looking in a fun house mirror. We looked quite alike, I thought, with that dark hair and the stubborn set of his jaw. If his hair wasn't slicked back with so much grease he might have passed for my little brother.

 _Kill your opponents_ , reminded the veruka.

 _ **No**_.

I hadn't resisted this hard since the little girl. Maybe my energy had begun to erode the device again, or maybe my will was stronger this time.

My feet halted abruptly. My forward momentum carried me forward, and as I fell, the energy orb I held flew wide, missing Yusuke by a full foot and barreling towards En instead. I saw him narrowly dodge it just before my face smacked into the stone of the ring.

"The hell?" Yusuke muttered.

"What's this? It looks like fighter Nana has developed two left feet!"

The impact was like a reset button on the veruka. The tendrils in my back and neck pused more strongly, and I was on my feet in a moment, but luckily the moment was enough. Yusuke was clear, and the masked fighter had returned to the ring. Once more, I gladly pursued the fastest opponent.

The fight dragged on, though neither Yusuke nor Kuwabara were launching any counter attacks. Only the masked fighter was truly _fighting_ us at all. The other two were purely on the defensive, not just because they couldn't see our attacks, but because they really, really didn't want to fight us, knowing that we were mind-controlled.

And while I appreciated that the boys sympathized with our plight, they weren't doing themselves any favors. We couldn't stop on our own. _They_ had to stop us.

We leapt into the air, primed to attack once more.

"Don't just stand there, move!" The blue-haired woman shouted from outside the ring.

The masked fighter appeared in the nick of time, disrupting Kai's javelin with a kick to the head. She bounced like a ping pong ball between us, launching off Kai to knock back Ryo, then En, then myself.

"I suppose your sympathy's admirable, but what do you dimwits plan to achieve by not fighting?" The masked fighter admonished. "They'll still be controlled, and you'll be dead."

The wrapping on her face had come undone, revealing a pretty face, curly pink hair, and warm brown eyes. This seemed to shock Yusuke and Kuwabara for a moment, and Koto described the woman's looks the the crowd.

"Wow, people, I'm shocked! This fight couldn't get any weirder!"

As if her words were a summons, mere seconds later Koto was forced to dodge a body falling from the sky. M5, I realized. His body dropped down from the sky and bounced off the edge of the ring as Koto scrambled out of the way.

"I think that's one of the missing combatants from the Doctor Ichigaki team, dropping down from the sky and into the stadium! Woah, forget what I said before, NOW this fight couldn't get any weirder!"

A large crash and a cloud of dust from the lower stands proved her wrong once again, and when the dust cleared, a giant robot lay still amidst the rubble.

"My robot!" Ichigaki cried, stricken. "Getassible, what's happened to you?!"

Two more figures dropped from the sky to land on the robot: a shorter man dressed in black, and a taller redhead. The missing members of Yusuke's team, I assumed, since my cousin greeted them dryly.

"Hey guys, you're late!"

Koto had recovered from the shock of raining demons and robots to resume her announcing. "The missing members of the Urameshi team have appeared as well! Hiei and Kurama, can you tell us where you've been?"

"Sorry," said the one in black, though he sounded entirely unapologetic. "A thirty foot killing machine wanted a word with us."

"M5 told us everything," said the other. "Those veruki on the human fighters' backs are the source of the doctor's mind control." His explanation was calm, but he closed his eyes regretfully. "But in their present state I'm afraid it would be fatal to remove them. Those four are completely innocent. They didn't know the implants would control them. They were told it was blood research."

"I told you guys, that no-good liar!" Kuwabara shouted angrily.

"And that's not the extent of it, I'm afraid," The redhead continued. "It seems the doctor caused their master's illness in the first place." The man in black shot the redhead a skeptical look, but the redhead shook his head minutely. The other man paused for a moment, then nodded, seemingly grudgingly.

Ichigaki wasn't fazed by the revelation of his treachery. On the contrary, he laughed raucously. Yusuke and the taller boy growled in anger. "I can't take this, Urameshi, he doesn't have a soul!"

"Listen to that power-tripping laugh, the guy thinks he can use people however he wants!" Snarled Yusuke.

Ichigaki laughed even more heartily at his words. "Your unscientific minds are so trivial! Fully blind to the larger picture! So maybe I did infect Mitamura, maybe I lied to get their bodies and maybe I enjoyed it, who cares! Behind every lab discovery are a few poisoned rats!"

"Shut up, Ichigaki, you're full of crap and you know it! You don't care about this science stuff, you're just trying to win the tournament!" Kuwabara accused.

Ichigaki cackled and pointed at the boy with a clawed finger. "Means to an end, boy, means to an end! I have no expectation for winning this! I'm sure these four will be killed long before the finals, I only need to win this match so I can have Yusuke's body!"

"What?!" Yusuke shouted in disbelief.

"They are strong, but they have nothing like the potential you have, Yusuke. I'll probably dispose of them myself once I get you," Ichigaki said, like we were nothing more than appliances, to be disposed of once he acquired the newer, better model.

"What?!" Kuwabara cried in outrage.

"Damn it, that's it!" Yusuke clenched his fists and started walking, not towards us, but towards Doctor Ichigaki.

"Stop and think, boys, he's manipulating your emotions," the masked fighter warned. "You're losing what little focus you have."

"I don't care if it's a trap or not, his troll ass is meeting my foot!" Yusuke snarled. Kuwabara clearly agreed, as both boys made a running jump out of the ring, aiming for Ichigaki.

 _Protect Doctor Ichigaki._

Kai and En used Ryo and me as stepping stones to launch high in the air, knocking Yusuke and his friend away from Ichigaki and sending them sliding back to the other side of the ring.

At the attack, Yusuke's newly appeared teammate ran towards the edge of the ring, but Koto held them off. "Ah, ah, ah! They've already agreed to the four on three fight. Step in the ring now and your whole team forfeits!"

"You're a heartless mess, you know that?" The blue-haired woman accused. Koto's face fell a little, and Ichigaki laughed again.

"Please, don't blame her! I'm the one who got your apeish friends to accept those terms!"

"Naturally," Kurama said, exasperated.

"Hey Kuwabara, I think Doc just called you apeish," Yusuke commented.

"Yeah, like I need another reason to pummel his head in," Kuwabara grunted. The boys made to try to attack Ichigaki again, and found the four of us directly in their path.

"Gimme a break, you're still protecting this guy?!" Yusuke demanded.

"Come on, guys, at least say something! You heard the doctor himself, he doesn't care about—"

Ichigaki cut Kuwabara off. "Have you learned nothing yet? Nothing you say can matter, their old selves aren't in control! As the blood from the veruka enters the subject's skull, the microelectronics alter their brain's chemistry. Their entire personality is changed. This isn't a simple hypnosis or one suggested command, I'm talking about a constant voice in their head every waking moment, controlling them from the inside. They're not protecting me because I've given a command, their new brain actually wants to!" Ichigaki grinned a jagged grin, gesturing at the four of us standing before him. "You see? Therein lies the beauty of my invention! They don't listen to me or anyone else! The command has become part of who they are! So kill them if you can—their humanity is already dead!"

"I can't!" Kuwabara denied. "That isn't true, I know there's something more!" Kuwabara's eyes went distant for a moment, then he shook his head as if to clear it. "Ichigaki's wrong, Urameshi, their old selves haven't been erased, just covered up!"

I had long grown tired of the sound of Ichigaki's laughing. "After all I've said you're still clinging to pathetic hopes. Avoid anything as long as it makes you feel better, right? Well then, let your compassion lead you all the way to your graves!"

With Ichigaki's safety assured, all that consumed us once again was the command to, "Kill, kill, kill..." We advanced on the boys.

"Damn!" Yusuke ran, but Kuwabara stood his ground.

"Okay, guys, I hear what you're sayin' to me, but you gotta tell me how to help!" Kuwabara tried to dodge at the last moment, receiving a glancing blow from Kai's javelin and En's angel blades for his trouble. Yusuke shouted after Kuwabara and started to run back, but Kuwabara yelled at him to stay back as he ran at Ryo. He grabbed at Ryo's shoulders, trying to get through to him.

"I know it feels like you're beat, but you're not!" Kuwabara ground out, blocking a punch to his gut. "This is still your body! Please!" Ryo landed a punch to Kuwabara's face which knocked him to the ground, hard. Kuwabara was still talking, though. "Think about your master, everything you—" Ryo delivered a grisly claw to Kuwabara's stomach, and red spittle flew from his mouth as he staggered backwards.

"Enough of this, I'm coming in to help!" Yusuke shouted. We four advanced on Kuwabara again.

"No, stay back!" Kuwabara said again. "I'm the only one who needs to do this!"

Kuwabara stood firm, arms open, leaving himself wide open for an attack. The kid was going to _die_. There was no way he could survive all of our attacks at once, exposing all his vitals like that. We were going to _kill_ him if he didn't move.

 _Kill your opponents_.

 _Stop, stop, stop!_ A familiar refrain, almost as loud as the call of the veruka. Was that my own voice, or the voice of the little girl? I didn't want to kill a defenseless kid. Not again. I willed my body to lock up, to fall on my face again, but it was fruitless.

My arm moved of its own volition. _Obey Doctor Ichigaki. Kill your opponents_.

We attacked, all at once. Kuwabara flew clear out of the ring with the force of it, and red blood misted in the air as he went.

Koto crowed. "Kuwabara goes down, his plea thrown in his face with a sensational four-on-one attack!"

There was no way he'd survived that. We'd killed him. _I'd_ killed him.

Why couldn't that idiot have fought back? What did his death achieve? There was no reaching us, no saving us. He should have _fought back_! Taken that sword of his and turned our attacks back on us.

In that moment I hated Kuwabara. I would have traded places with him in an instant. Better to be dead and battered outside the ring, than to be controlled like this.

 _You're a monster, too. Monster, monster, monster..._

Yusuke turned on us then, glaring venomously. "How could you do that?! You're the bastards who asked him for help!"

But Yusuke's anger faltered a second later. I felt wetness slide down my cheek, and smelled the bitter tang of blood.

"Kill..." Ryo said. He was crying the blood tears, too, I saw. We all were, now. "Kill… us." For some reason it become easier to tack the additional word onto the directive once Ryo had voiced it first.

"Kill... us. Kill... kill us," En and Kai echoed.

"Kill…" I said. It was a struggle. My lips wanted to say _your opponents_. "...us." It would be fitting, in an odd way, for Yusuke to kill me. He was the reason Ichigaki had taken me in the first place, and now he had the power to end it. If only he had the will.

"What is this, actually feeling guilty now? When it's over?" Yusuke demanded.

"No, Yusuke, it's not over. For Kuwabara, anyway." The masked fighter said quietly. "They deliberately missed his vital points. He will live."

"Amazing," said the blue-haired woman, cradling Kuwabara's limp form on the grass outside the ring, "Kuwabara's plea really worked."

"Not completely," the masked fighter disagreed. "Their true selves have awoken, but they're not in control. I'm afraid this surfacing of emotion will not last for long."

"Really!" Doctor Ichigaki complained. "The human's emotional brain is the only part throwing a wrench in my socket! Millions of microelectronics sending control through their neural paths, and yet that feeling crap manages to poke out its head. The veruki will soon fix that!"

"This is the once chance you guys get to talk and all you say is kill you?" Yusuke asked angrily, then sobered some. "It must be hell in there. Stupid doctor thinks he can torture like that? No way!"

Yusuke's anger seemed to manifest itself as a physical presence, I thought, but I quickly realized that it wasn't anger, but _energy_. It glowed brightly about him in a fantastic aura and surged, dancing like a wildfire.

No wonder Doctor Ichigaki wanted to get his claws on him.

"Don't take this personally!" Yusuke launched himself at us, catching Kai in the face with a strong punch. Kai flew into me, knocking me down as Yusuke dodged En and Ryo with ease.

 _Finally_ , he was taking this seriously. And now, hopefully, he could end this.

"Absolutely amazing!" Koto gasped into the mic. "The fight's been flipped onto its backside! Suddenly wonder boy Yusuke is taking on the entire team by himself!"

Ichigaki muttered irritably to himself and exchanged a few words I couldn't hear with the rest of Team Urameshi, but I did hear him when he screamed "What's the delay, you lab rats?! Destroy him!"

 _Destroy him. Destroy him. Destroy him._

Yusuke landed another punch on Kai, throwing him into Ryo this time. "Lucky for you guys I'm pretty good at avoiding my feelings," Yusuke said seriously, his finger beginning to glow. "Otherwise, I'd be getting sick on myself right now for what I gotta do." He launched himself in the air and aimed his finger at the four of us from above. "I'd say this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you, but I don't like to lie. It's been real fun, but I'll see you in hell. Remind me to apologize to you then!"

"Wait!" The masked fighter stayed Yusuke's hand. "It's all right. Let me take over from here."

Yusuke looked skeptical, but stepped back. A bit of tension left his shoulders as the masked fighter stepped forward. He clearly didn't want to take our lives, even though he was willing to do so if he had to.

"Neither of you have the stomach!" Ichigaki sneered from the sidelines. "You can't kill these humans, you know it'd be wrong! The only choice is to accept your defeat!"

The masked fighter ignored him, arranging her fingers as if in prayer and beginning a chant. The result was an eruption of bright energy, blasting a dozen feet high in a brilliant blaze. The hairs on my neck rose involuntarily at the outpouring of power.

Ichigaki looked unconcerned. "It's a hoax! Don't let it frighten you! I've gaged this fighter's strength—she doesn't have enough power to create an attack that big!" Clearly, she did, but Ichigaki was too weak himself to sense it. "It's just for intimidation! Attack her!"

 _Attack her. Kill your opponents. Attack her. Kill your opponents._

 _Please,_ _end this._

The four of us launched at the masked fighter together. She continued her chant and the brilliant pillar of energy changed, forming a dome of shimmering light that spread in a wave like a bomb going off. As the wave of energy pushed us back, the masked fighter finished her chant and leapt forward. Lightning quick, she struck Ryo, then Kai, then En in the heart. The strikes dislodged the veruki, which fell to the ground with a sickening, fleshy splat while my teammates crumpled like dolls.

Finally, the masked fighter reached me, and I met her warm brown eyes as she struck me in the heart, as well. The world went dark, and cold, and once again my eyes slid shut, welcoming death.


	6. A Matter of Love and Death

I knew immediately that I was not dead.

I had come close enough to whatever came beyond death a handful of times to know that when I passed over permanently, I would be greeted by warmth and bright light. This place was cold, and dim. What surrounded me was not blackness, but a muted dark grey, like deep dark waters. Around me swirled pale golden mist that seemed to dance and sway, though there was no breeze or indeed any sound at all.

And stepping out of the mist, across from me, was myself.

Or so it appeared, anyway. The girl across from me had my face, my dark hair, but where my eyes were nearly black, hers were the same pale gold as the energy surrounding us, and seemed to glow with an inner light. She did not speak at first, merely staring at me with an impassive face.

Maybe this was Death, coming to chew me out in person for cheating her so many times.

"So have I used up eight of my nine lives, or am I just unkillable?" I asked tiredly, watching the girl and curiously drifting my hand through the curling golden mist. It was surprisingly warm, almost like steam.

The girl's face didn't even twitch, pale eyes unblinking. Then she said, in an ancient voice that was not mine, "Are you pure? Or are you wicked?"

I blinked, withdrawing my hand from the mist and returning my full attention to the girl. Thing, really. It was no girl. I waited for it to elaborate, but that appeared to be all it was going to say.

"What, those are the only two options? Pure or wicked, nothing in between?"

"Are you pure, or are you wicked?" It repeated. It gestured broadly with its arm— _my_ arm—and around her the mist began to take shape, and the glowing light formed images. Memories.

Myself, fighting. Killing, slaughtering human and demon alike. Hideki and Aya's father. The little girl. Kuwabara.

Regret, and horror, and sorrow, and a million other conflicting emotions had my throat clenching and my eyes stinging. The images had no sound, but I could remember it. I could feel the blood on my hands, hear the screaming. The begging. I clenched my eyes shut, a luxury I hadn't had with Ichigaki, but opened them when the thing spoke again.

"Are you pure?" Its eyes slid meaningfully from me to the images in the mist. "Or are you wicked?"

Maybe this was Death, after all. Was it trying to decide where to send me? I didn't expect to have a say in that.

On paper, I should probably go to hell, shouldn't I? I'd killed… dozens, at least. But I hadn't wanted to. I'd never hurt anyone on purpose. I'd fought, kicking and screaming, against every drop of blood I ever drew.

That had to count for something, didn't it?

"I didn't ask for this," I told the thing, watching its pale, unblinking gaze for any sign of change. "I didn't want to kill any of those people." I started to say I never wanted to kill anyone, but I quickly realized that it wasn't true. And it seemed wrong to lie to this thing. I was sure it would know if I did, anyway.

"The only ones I ever wanted to kill were Ichigaki and his servants, and I couldn't even do that. And if wanting to kill them makes me wicked, then fine. I wouldn't want to be pure." I glared at the thing, but she still didn't blink or react at all to the promise. "So if you're going to punish me, or send me to hell, or whatever, go ahead. I'm more than ready."

The thing gazed at me for another long moment. Then, it quirked its lips, closing its eyes.

I opened mine.

"Save your tears, Metamura. Your boys aren't dead."

Waking up was like being punched in the gut. I knew immediately that the veruka was gone, because it inhibited my ability to feel pain, and I was certainly feeling it now as I groaned and pushed myself off the ground. Around me the boys stirred as well.

"I... I can move." Ryo stared at his hands in shock.

I, too, watched with a deep sense of satisfaction as I flexed and curled my fingers freely. It was such a simple thing, being able to stretch and flex and fidget, but it was a thing I'd been denied for so long that it was impossible to sit still. The conversation around us in the ring and the demons roaring in the crowd were suddenly extra loud, as if cotton had been removed from my ears. I suspected it was because the orders which had echoed in my skull for weeks and weeks were no longer beating a constant refrain in my mind.

"Now this is stupid-weird," Yusuke said, eyeing the four of us warily as we slowly, almost drunkenly swayed to our feet.

"Ryo, En!" Kai surged forward to embrace each of us in turn. "Ren!" His hug was warm and painfully tight, but I clutched him back just as fiercely, feeling tears of relief prick at my eyes. Real tears, this time. Not blood.

We were alive. And free. I had dreamed for weeks of freedom, but I'd hardly dared to imagine that we could ever be free of the veruki _and_ manage to live.

Ryo must have had similar thoughts, because he muttered, flexing his hands like he still couldn't believe he was the one controlling them, "We're really alive."

"And in complete control," Kai added, amazed. He reached his hand back to where the veruka had once been embedded, and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears as his hand grasped empty air.

"I never thought I'd see you!"

We all turned. To me, the man was unrecognizable, looking gaunt and tired in a martial arts uniform which hung loosely on his thin frame—but it was easy to figure out who he was when the boys cried, "Master!" and quickly turned away, hiding their faces from him.

Master Metamura, who had been stepping forward to embrace his pupils, stopped short with his hand outstretched, brow furrowed. "Why do you turn?"

The boys' shoulders trembled.

"We've committed horrible sins, Master," Ryo said, voice shaking. "I can't even remember all the people that I've..." _Killed_ went unspoken.

"The lessons that you taught us didn't mean anything," Kai's voice dripped with self-loathing. "We're a disgrace to your dojo."

"Please just leave us, Master. We can't bear to look at you now!" En cried. His eyes were shadowed by his hair, but I saw tear drops fall at his feet.

Ryo fisted his hands at his side and spat, "She should have just killed us."

Metamura had been listening with a pitying look on his face, but at Ryo's words his face hardened. "How can you say such things?!"

"Your master is right. Your guilt is misplaced." The masked fighter added, calm reason supporting Metamura's outrage. "The technique I used is called the Spirit Wave. It is one of the five great attacks by trial and is powered by your own spirit energy." I thought back to the glowing gold mist I'd been surrounded by while I was unconscious. That would explain its warmth and familiarity. "If your souls are corrupt, then the wickedness will take your life. But if you are pure of heart, then that purity consumes you, destroying any outside impediments. It was your souls that destroyed the veruki and freed you, not me. That proves you have nothing to hide."

My lips tugged downward to hear the masked fighter echo the same black-and-white approach of not-me from the trial, but I supposed I couldn't complain. My spirit energy must have decided I was 'pure of heart' enough to live, which was more than I could have hoped for.

"En, Ryo, Kai, she says what I've known all along," Metamura reassured his students. "If there was anything you could have done to prevent those kills, you would have!"

The boys were all crying now openly now. I averted my eyes, feeling like I was intruding on a private moment. "Your bodies were taken over, but who you really are, your souls, are still clean. I see you now in the same way I always have: as my three most noble students." Metamura said, looking teary himself. "Let's put this behind us!"

At this the boys relented and turned to embrace Metamura, sobbing outright. I stood off to the side, not knowing what to do with myself. I tried to put my hands in my pockets, but remembered too late I was dressed in a plain gi. No pockets. I swiped my hands over my thighs and sighed.

"What's the matter?" Yusuke said, spotting me standing at a distance from the four. "You're not gonna get in on the reunion?"

"Uh." How awkward. _No, Yusuke, I'm actually the estranged cousin you never knew about. How about a hug, cuz?_ "I don't know Master Metamura." Glancing around the ring for a change of subject, I frowned. "What happened to Ichigaki?"

Yusuke smiled darkly. "I did." He pointed to a pile of rubble high up in the stands. I squinted at it, and couldn't help feeling disappointed that I hadn't at least been able to watch him get pummeled. At least he was finally dead, though. There was no way he could have survived being knocked up there like that, let alone the collapse of the stands. "And whaddaya mean you don't know Metamura? I thought you guys were his students."

"Um." I really did not want to explain this to him. Luckily, I didn't have to. Yusuke's teammates, the ones who'd arrived with the giant robot, stepped forward. The one in black spoke.

"The girl is your cousin, detective," he said bluntly. "The mad doctor was so obsessed with your 'superior' genetics that he sought out the closest thing he could get his hands on." The derisive tone in his voice suggested that he had a very different opinion about the quality of Yusuke's genetics.

Yusuke stared at his teammate with narrowed eyes, like he was trying to figure out if he was joking. The man in black regarded him blandly, and Yusuke began to shake his head slowly. "That can't be right. I don't even _have_ cousins."

"In fact, you do," said Yusuke's other teammate, the one with red hair. He spoke carefully, voice calm. "Her mother is your mother's estranged sister. M5 explained it all."

"What, for real?" Yusuke turned away from his teammates to stare at me seemingly looking for confirmation. Hesitantly, I nodded. Yusuke's eyes widened, and he spun back to his teammates, voice rising. "Well then, why didn't you tell me before? I coulda killed her!"

There was a long beat of silence. The redhead straightened minutely and the one in black glanced away. Their silent communication when they had arrived in the arena made more sense, now.

"Well?" Yusuke was still waiting. Either he hadn't spotted his teammate's body language, or he didn't know how to interpret it.

The redhead finally broke the silence. "I thought it was best to wait, just in case."

Now Yusuke got it. "In case I had to kill her, you mean." Yusuke's voice had dropped low, and he took a single, menacing step toward his teammate. "And what if I did, huh?! Were you even gonna _tell_ me?!"

"Wow, folks! Just when you thought that last match couldn't _get_ any more dramatic!" Koto's eyes were practically sparkling as she watched Yusuke, whose hand was twitching like he was seriously considering decking his teammate. "It looks like Nana from the Ichigaki team is Yusuke's long-lost cousin—and his own teammates kept the information from him in case he had to kill her! Talk about a soap opera!"

"Do you _ever_ shut up?"

The words had tumbled out without my permission. I'd gotten so used to screaming in my head and never saying a word that I wasn't used to my thoughts coming out of my mouth so easily.

Koto blinked at me in surprise and then backed away, smiling sheepishly. On the plus side, the surprise of me snapping at Koto seemed to have broken the tension between Yusuke and his teammate.

"Enough." The masked fighter said, approaching them. Her mask was back in place, hiding her face again. "Your teammates hid the truth from you because they knew you wouldn't have the guts to do what needed to be done if you knew. Luckily for all of you, no one actually had to die today."

Reluctantly, Yusuke stepped back from his teammate. I bowed low to the masked fighter.

"Thank you for that. I owe you my life."

"We all do," Ryo agreed, coming to stand next to me as I straightened. I glanced back to see En, Kai, and Master Metamura watching from the far side of the ring. Kai shot me a reassuring smile. "Please, allow me to atone. We injured Kuwabara—let me take his place on your team!"

Yusuke didn't hesitate. "Thanks for the offer, but no." He held up a hand as Ryo opened his mouth to argue. "We don't get a replacement fighter unless one of us dies, and Kuwabara's still kicking. Besides, he'd be pissed if I just gave his spot away." Yusuke smiled reassuringly at Ryo, previous anger forgotten for the moment. "You just take care of your master."

Ryo hesitated, but finally nodded. "I will." He turned to walk back to Kai, En, and Master Metamura, but stopped, turning his eyes to me. "Coming, Ren?"

That was a good question. I felt unmoored. Did I follow my friends, who'd been with me through so much, and were finally themselves again? Or did I follow my cousin? Would Yusuke even want me around? What did I _do_ now?

Bells chimed while I hesitated. "May I have your attention, please!" Called a voice from the loud speaker. "The third round of the Dark Tournament will begin immediately. Furthermore, the committee has unanimously decided to begin the match in accordance to the match diagram, starting from the left."

The screens on the stadium displayed a ridiculously lopsided roster match-up that was most certainly not in Team Urameshi's favor. "Team Urameshi and Team Masho, please report to the ring."

"Are they _trying_ to kill you?" I asked Yusuke, unthinking.

Yusuke and his team looked grim. "That is the general idea, yes," said the redhead.

Yusuke stomped off to hassle Koto for an explanation, and the redhead followed, attempting to stop Yusuke from wringing her neck.

At least the turn of events had helped me make a decision, though.

"You go on," I told Ryo quietly. "I'll meet you at the hotel later. I won't be able to rest until I've seen how this match turns out."

Ryo glanced uncertainly between me and En, Kai, and Master Metatura, looking torn. "I'll stay with you, then. En and Kai can take Master Metamura back to the hotel. You shouldn't be alone."

"You three have finally been reunited with your master," I said, gently. "You should be with him."

Ryo still looked conflicted. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I'll be fine, Ryo. Go."

Ryo looked at me searchingly, then finally nodded. "Alright. But come straight back to the hotel afterward, okay? Don't go wandering the island alone, and stay close to Team Urameshi."

"I will." On impulse, I hugged Ryo tightly again. Because I could. Because it felt good to embrace my friend, to touch another human with affection instead of violence. Ryo hugged me back, just as tightly. "See you soon."

My friends left the arena, and I hopped out of the ring to see how badly we'd injured Kuwabara.

The blue-haired woman jumped at my appearance, laughing a little nervously. "Oh, hello!"

"So you're Urameshi's cousin, huh?" Kuwabara asked, leaning heavily on the woman's shoulder. His breathing sounded like it took a lot of effort. "Well, you sure hit about as hard as he does…"

I winced. "Sorry. How are you holding up?"

Kuwabara straightened, though the movement must have hurt, judging by the way his face paled. "Ah, this is nothin'. I'm just layin' down because Hiei and Kurama have been lazy today." Kuwabara forced a laugh. "I bet they thought they could just make us do all the work. Well, now it's their turn to fight."

"Right." I nodded slowly, then turned to the blue-haired woman. "How is he _really_ doing?"

Kuwabara wheezed a protest as the woman rolled her eyes. "Not well." She shot a reprimanding look at Kuwabara to stifle any further denials. "It's nothing life-threatening, but he's clearly going to need time to recover."

"Team Masho, this is your final call! Enter or be disqualified!" Koto announced.

I hoped for a moment that the other team simply wouldn't show up, but it was in vain. A massive, swirling tornado appeared within the ring, whipping my hair about my face before the wind abated and five hulking figures in dark cloaks revealed themselves opposite Yusuke and the redhead. The masked fighter and the man in black stood at the edge of the ring, waiting.

"Team captains, decide the terms of battle!"

Yusuke folded his arms as the cloaked figures apparently deliberated. Finally one of the figures pulled of its cloak, revealing a demon with pointed ears and a single horn that protruded from a mane of wild red hair.

The demon strode forward and rambled a rush of such heavily accented words that I couldn't understand a thing he'd said. Judging by the blank look on Yusuke's face, he hadn't understood him, either, but still he said to Koto, "Whatever he said."

"Moron." I muttered. Kuwabara made a small choking noise, but I couldn't tell if it was shock or laughter. I raised my voice so Yusuke would be able to hear me in the ring. "Know what you're agreeing to before you say yes!"

Yusuke glanced over his shoulder at me and shrugged, entirely unapologetic, as Koto translated for the stadium. "Jin has asked for a series of one-on-one matches with the advancing team taking five wins, and Yusuke gives the nod!"

The stadium bells chimed again. I glanced up at the scoreboard anxiously. The _last_ time an announcement was made, Yusuke's team was forced to fight two matches in a row. Another announcement so soon didn't bode well.

"May I have your attention, please. The tournament committee will be instituting a medical examination before the next round. Due to the Urameshi team fighting without rest, and in accordance to section 13 of the tournament index, report to the medical tent."

That... actually sounded like it would help. Which, since the committee was apparently trying to _kill_ Yusuke, made me immediately suspicious. My misgivings only multiplied when, as the four members of Team Urameshi who were capable of walking made their way to the medical tent, I spied the woman who strolled out of it.

She was incredibly busty, with long red hair and a hemline which had my eyebrows climbing toward my hairline. She dismissed Yusuke and the redhead, and Kuwabara entirely, pointing instead to the masked fighter and the man in black. She ordered them to the medical tent over their protests, ignoring Kuwabara completely.

"Should we drag him over?" I asked the blue-haired woman uncertainly. If the nurse wouldn't come to Kuwabara, we should try to bring him to the medical tent, right? But before she could answer, raised voices erupted from the direction of the tent.

The medical tent had been surrounded with a crackling force field, trapping the man in black and the masked fighter inside. The man's red eyes ( _demon_ , my mind whispered) were glaring holes in the back of the nurse's head, marking her as the culprit.

"Hey, redhead!" Yusuke shouted. "Why do I get the feeling you're not a licensed nurse!"

"That's correct, Yusuke." My mouth dropped open at the same time as Yusuke's as the woman shed her dress. Underneath she wore nothing but golden cords wrapped around her bust and hips, just barely covering her. "Enchantress is more like it. Ruka is my name, the most talented creature alive in spell defense incantations."

"Spell defense?" Kuwabara repeated, craning his neck to try to see what was happening. "What's she talkin' about?"

"It's a different way to manipulate energy," the blue-haired woman explained, speaking up so Yusuke could hear her in the ring. "She doesn't have any attack powers, but her defense is so top-notch that nothing can break through her force field."

There was a note of tension in the woman's voice, and I tensed at the sound of it, too. So two of Team Urameshi's fighters were trapped, and a third was injured? How were they supposed to fight?

"Give me my damn team back!" Yusuke growled.

Ruka smirked and cocked her hip, unconcerned. "Didn't you hear the announcement, Yusuke? They're both very sick. They're going to need a little time to recover."

The irritatingly calm voice of the committee representative droned over the loudspeaker. "As a result of the medical examination, Hiei and the masked fighter have been ruled unfit to fight. They will sit out for the duration of the round while they are suitably treated."

"So it's Yusuke and Red against five demons," I said grimly. "They're not even trying to be subtle."

"Kurama," The blue-haired woman corrected absently. Then, desperately, "Can't you help? Each team is allowed an alternate, right?"

I shook my head, repeating what Yusuke had said earlier. "Alternates are only allowed to step in if a team member dies. Even if it was allowed, I'm sure the committee would find some loophole to disqualify me."

Yusuke looked about ready to punch Koto, but Kurama pulled him aside and talked to him in hushed tones. Whatever he said seemed to reassure Yusuke somewhat, because his shoulders relaxed some and he stopped shooting daggers at Koto with his eyes.

Jin, the incomprehensible redhead from Team Masho, appeared equally unhappy with the arrangement, strolling out of the ring and muttering, "Somebody else go."

The member of Team Masho who climbed into the ring first was a lanky, thin demon with pallid blue-gray skin, and pointed ears, teeth, and claws. He wore very little—just a bandana on his head and a loincloth of draped fabric.

Yusuke made to enter the ring, but Kurama stepped forward first. They exchanged a few more quiet words before Yusuke reluctantly left the ring. Yusuke quietly relayed Kurama's plan to take on as many demons as he could before Yusuke would take over the fighting as Koto began the fight between Kurama and Gama, the master of disguise.

Two against five, with five wins needed to advance to the next round, were not good odds. I looked down at Kuwabara, considering. I couldn't fight for Team Urameshi, but I wasn't _completely_ useless.

I turned to Kuwabara, catching his eye. "Listen. I got pretty good at accelerating my own healing. I've never tried it on another person before, but I could give it a try, if you want."

Kuwabara only took a second to think before nodding. "Yeah, okay."

"Kuwabara, are you sure?" The woman asked. She glanced uncertainly at the scorch marks my energy had left in the ring.

Kuwabara nodded firmly. Not looking away from me, he told the woman, "I trust her, Botan."

Tears pricked at my eyes and my breath shuddered, just for a moment. That this kid could trust me to help him, after I'd done this to him in the first place…

I sighed out a breath and lay my hands on Kuwabara's face and heart gently, sinking into the familiar meditative state that accompanied my healing trances. The roar of the crowd blurred and quieted and I let my eyes slide closed, focusing only on my energy and Kuwabara's.

His energy was already working to heal himself. All I had to do was help it along. It took a few moments and several long, deep breaths, but slowly, gently, I was able to coax my energy to start trickling into Kuwabara's body. I sank deeper, focusing only on the energy, and let it absorb my whole focus.

I jolted horribly when Kuwabara pulled away, breaking the connection. I blinked rapidly, disoriented, and tried to figure out what was going on.

"A fighter standing in the ring cannot be removed against his will," said a voice from the loudspeaker. "As will cannot be determined here, the fighter remains."

"What?" I turned to the ring. Kurama was standing with his head down against his chest, very still. Some muscular demon stood on the other side of the ring, looking smug.

"Kurama's unconscious on his feet and they're trying to make him fight!" Botan cried.

"He'll be killed!" Kuwabara said, straining to sit up.

"A fighter standing in the ring cannot be removed against his will?" I repeated slowly, brow furrowing. There _had_ to be a loophole in there somewhere. "A fighter standing in the ring—"

I jostled Kuwabara with my sudden movement as I yanked off my shoe. Botan yelped in surprise, steadying him.

"What on _earth_ are you—"

I didn't take the time to explain. I lobbed my shoe at Kurama.

Time seemed to slow as it sailed through the air. It felt like minutes before the shoe landed, bouncing off Kurama's red hair and falling to the floor of the ring with a soft _plop_. Koto and the demon from the opposing team stared as Kurama wobbled and swayed—and then, mercifully, fell on his face.

The stadium was quiet, the roar of the crowd replaced with a confused hush.

"Would you look at that," I said into the unnatural silence. "He's not standing anymore. Yusuke, you'd better get him out of the ring."

Yusuke grinned like a shark and went to fetch Kurama. The opposing demon snarled. "She can't do that!" He jabbed a furious finger in my direction. "That's outside interference!"

"Kurama _is_ on the ground," Koto said uncertainly. "And he's clearly out for the count."

The loudspeaker crackled back to life. "The fighter may be removed from the ring, but the match of Kurama vs. Bakken is ruled a loss by forfeit."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Yusuke muttered. He set Kurama gently on the grass next to Botan and clapped an approving hand on my shoulder. "Nice aim."

"Toss me my shoe when you go back up there, would you?"

Yusuke grinned as he stood, and it was a sharp, dangerous look. "Sure thing."

"You hit him… with a shoe," Botan said, still sounding shocked. I caught the offending object as Yusuke chucked it out of the ring and slipped it back on my foot. I glanced at Kurama, laying still on the ground. Even unconscious he looked pained—probably because of the plant that was sticking out of his arm.

"I figured the demon would hit him harder." Pointing at the plant, I asked, "Is that normal?"

"Sort of," Botan said, eyeing the plant cautiously. "Kurama can control plants, be he doesn't usually plant them in his _veins_. I wouldn't touch it, though, it might be dangerous. We'll just have to hope he can take care of it himself when he wakes up."

"If you say so." I shrugged, captured one of Kuwabara's hands between my own, and fell back into my healing trance.

When I surfaced again, it felt like hours had passed. Kuwabara had pulled away again, and seemed to be trying to use the wall of the stadium to lever himself up into a standing position. I blinked tiredly, jaw cracking in a yawn as I looked around. Taking in the recent destruction to the stadium, and Yusuke standing in the ring, I asked groggily, "Did we win?"

"We're about to lose!" Botan cried, eyes wide with panic. Kurama, now awake, was propped upright at her side. He looked grim. "Yusuke beat Jin, but the committee ruled it a double loss. We don't have any fighters left!"

In the ring, Koto didn't look pleased. Grudgingly, she said, "Due to Yusuke's ineligibility and as there are no other members on his team _available_ to fight, and as Team Masho still has a competitor, by forfeit the winner of the round is—"

"Wait right there!" Kuwabara straightened, pushing off the wall and pulling of his shirt dramatically. "We've still got one more fighter on our team! Let's go!"

I stared at the kid's battered, bruised body. Still drowsy, it took me a long moment to realize that Kuwabara meant _himself_.

"That is not a good idea," I informed him, slurring a little. Kuwabara didn't seem to hear me. He was striding determinedly toward the ring, but the dramatic effect was lessened by the fact that he was wobbling and staggering as he went.

"The boy can barely walk!" Botan protested. She scrambled to get up. "Hold him, would you?" She said to me, and I just managed not to fall over as she leaned Kurama against my side so she could get up. She jogged off, voice rising as she called, "As the team trainer, I must say this is a ridiculous idea!"

Sighing, I scooted backwards so that both Kurama and I could lean against the stadium wall, rather than each other. Kurama glanced at me curiously when we'd settled.

"How are his injuries, after your efforts?"

I sighed heavily, closing my eyes as I pictured the glittering network of energy that was Kuwabara's body as I worked to speed his healing. "They're significantly improved, but considering how he started, that's not saying much. Bones that were broken are probably just cracked or bruised now, and he's not bleeding internally anymore, but he's nowhere near healed, and fighting won't help him any."

Kurama hummed thoughtfully, turning back to the ring to give Kuwabara a measuring look. I paused as I remembered that the last time I'd seen Kurama, he'd been unconscious and a plant had been growing out of his arm. Glancing down, I saw that the plant was still very much present. "How are _your_ injuries?"

Kurama huffed a breath, a small almost-laugh, glancing down at the carnage in his arm. "It looks worse than it is. I'll be able to remove the Death Plant, in time."

"You know, that would've been a lot more reassuring if you hadn't called it a _Death Plant_."

In front of us, Kuwabara had managed to lever himself into the ring and was trying to make his case. "Remember, that lady from the medical tent took Hiei and the masked fighter but said I was okay!"

"Stupid, 'cause she's not a nurse!" Yusuke shot back.

"Don't confuse the issue, the point here is that I'm still eligible to fight and I'm the only one!" Kuwabara bit back.

"Yes, but 'eligible' and 'able' are two different words," the man in black—Hiei, apparently—snarked from the medical tent. Kuwabara bristled in anger.

"You shut up, shrimp!" He took a threatening step in the direction of the medical tent, but hissed in pain and clutched his ribs when he tried to lift an arm.

"See? You're in no shape!" Yusuke cried.

"I'm going, Urameshi, unless you want to kill me yourself!" Kuwabara gritted out stubbornly. "I know these guys are cheating us, and I know you're angry. Heck, I know what happens if we lose! But if you and Hiei go on some tirade destroying people until you get your way, you'll be just like them. Let's win this thing clean. Like—"

"Like men," Yusuke finished seriously. Kuwabara smiled.

"And we men go down with honor," Kuwabara said seriously, dragging heavy feet to the center of the ring.

Yusuke hopped down from the ring with a lingering glance behind him. I watched with eyes at half-mast, a frown tugging at my lips. "How old is Kuwabara, anyway?"

Kurama shifted in the corner of my eye, then answered evenly, "I believe he's the same age as Yusuke. 14, perhaps 15 now."

For a moment, the boy in the ring was replaced by a young girl with her hair in pigtails, smiling innocently. _So young._

I realized I'd said it out loud when Kurama responded, quietly, "It's dismal, but at least it will buy us time to consider our options."

Dismal was a bit of an understatement, in my opinion. "I've had enough of dead kids," I said, clenching my hands into fists. "If I'd conserved my energy I could've helped." Not that I would have been allowed, of course. This whole thing was just ridiculous.

"If you'd conserved your energy, Kuwabara wouldn't have a chance," Kurama said certainly. "If Kuwabara manages to survive this, he'll have you to thank." That he used the word _if_ was not reassuring.

"Well, he's defied death once today," I pointed out, a half-hearted attempt at optimism. "Maybe his luck will hold out."

Koto began the match, and Kuwabara charged forward, goaded by his opponent, Risho's, taunts. Kuwabara formed his spirit sword, but it hardly even brushed Risho before it flickered and died out. Risho, in retaliation, delivered a kick to Kuwabara's back that sent him rolling. I winced.

That beginning set the tone for the fight. Risha landed blow after blow, taunting Kuwabara. Kuwabara could hardly fight back, his spirit energy still so focused on healing himself that he was unable to manifest his weapon. Meanwhile, in the medical tent, Hiei's energy writhed and thrashed, threatening to snap Ruka's forcefield.

Kuwabara fell to the ground, and only just managed to pick himself up when Koto counted to 9. Risho, perhaps getting impatient with Kuwabara's continued perseverance, stepped out of the ring. I was confused for just a moment, but then the earth of the stadium shook and Risho climbed back into the ring, covered in armor made from the dirt and rocks of the stadium. Risho launched himself at Kuwabara and hit him directly in his injured ribs.

Blood sprayed from Kuwabara's mouth at the hit, and I just _knew_ that all his barely healed ribs were broken again. Still, despite the hit, Kuwabara pushed himself up from the ground before Koto could complete the ten count, again and again.

"Why don't you _quit_?" Risho demanded angrily and Kuwabara pushed himself up once more.

Kuwabara let out a pained chuckle. "Dummy. Guess you haven't checked the score for this round lately! We've got four wins. You've only got two, and the first team to five advances. Urameshi and Kurama gave their all for us, and I still have a way to bring it home for 'em!"

"He's going... to kill himself." Hiei said it quietly, but the words carried. I jolted, looking from Hiei to Kurama, who looked unsurprised by the words.

"What does he mean?" I demanded, panic tightening my chest and tears gathering in my eyes.

 _No more dead children. Please, no more dead children._

"With his spirit energy inaccessible, Kuwabara intends to use his life energy to fight Risho," Kurama explained quietly, sounding somber but resigned.

Risho didn't look concerned. "Using your life energy will only delay this. You're still going to die."

"No joke, moron." _14, perhaps 15 now._ Kurama's words echoed in my mind. Another kid was going to die in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. That this time it wouldn't be my hands ending the life barely made a difference. "That's the whole point of this fight, as long as I take you with me! If this fight ends in a draw, my team wins and the rest of my guys get to live!"

Kuwabara turned from Risho to glance over at his teammates.

"Hiei, you're a little punk and you always said mean stuff to me, but I know underneath all that junk you're a good guy. Kurama, you taught me a lot with the things you said. There's nobody more caring than you. Mummy fighter person, you saved those guys from Doctor Ichigaki, and that means a lot. You didn't say much, but somehow I really feel like I know you. Ren, you did your best to help us even after we almost killed you, and you probably saved Kurama's life. I know that Doctor made you do some bad things, but I know you're still a good person." Kurama inhaled sharply. The tears I'd been trying to hold back slid down my face. "And Urameshi, well... just take care of the rest of this, okay?"

"Don't you do this!" Yusuke's voice was choked with tears.

Kuwabara tried to act casual about walking to his death. "Let's not get too emotional, Urameshi, I wanna keep my finish nice and manly!" He chuckled. "You ready, Risho?"

Risho launched himself at Kuwabara once more, and Kuwabara braced himself while guarding against the brunt of the attack with his arms. A quiet cry from the stands had Kuwabara craning his neck around lightning-fast, though, and he shouted, "Hey, wait! She's really here!"

"What on earth are you babbling about now?" Risho demanded.

Kuwabara, thoroughly distracted, punched Risho in the face with enough force to send him skidding out of the ring. I stared, shocked at the sudden, unexpected show of strength.

"I'm not babbling, she's my girlfriend!" Kuwabara skipped out of the ring excitedly, approaching the stands with a levity completely unwarranted for someone with so many broken ribs. "There's only one person who calls me by my first name!"

I stared in disbelief as Kuwabara ran over to a small gaggle of girls standing at a railing just above the ring, posing and trying to look cool. The turn was such an abrupt about-face from the tearful goodbyes that had taken place a minute ago that I felt numb. "...What just happened?"

Kurama's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. When he spoke, his voice was laced with relief and amusement. "Kuwabara is rather smitten with Yukina. I'd say her unexpected appearance here has given him a second wind."

Risho attempted to attack Kuwabara again while he fawned over his girlfriend, but Kuwabara manifested his spirit sword with no trouble this time and struck Risho forcefully. The demon's armor dissolved, and Kuwabara wound his sword up like a bat before knocking him into the upper stands of the stadium like a baseball. Koto had been counting while Kuwabara was out of the ring, and he hastily scrambled back into it, just in time to win the match.


	7. Sleep, Doctor, Sleep

Yusuke helped Kuwabara out of the stadium, and I helped Kurama. Or maybe we both helped each other. He was so battered, and I was so exhausted, that the only thing that really kept us upright and moving forward was the fact that we were leaning on each other. I really shouldn't have been trusted to keep him off the ground at all, but Yusuke was occupied, Botan had run off, and both Hiei and the masked fighter were far too short to support him.

"Ren," Kurama breathed quietly as we trailed behind the others. His eyes were half-lidded, and I was frankly surprised that he had the energy to talk.

"Do we need to take a break?"

Kurama shook his head, and some of his hair whipped my cheek. "What Kuwabara said… about saving my life. What did he mean?"

It took me a second to remember what he was referring to.

"Oh, right. Um. Did you notice the scoreboard—you lost a match to Bakken?" Kurama nodded. "When you finished fighting your second match, you fell unconscious standing up. The committee said a fighter standing in the ring can't be removed against his will, and since will couldn't be determined, the next fight would be you vs. Bakken…"

"Naturally," Kurama said, voice dry. "What then?"

"Well." I cleared my throat a little awkwardly, feeling heat rising to my cheeks. "They did specify a fighter _standing_ in the ring. I figured you only needed a little nudge, so I, uh—"

We had caught up to the other members of Team Urameshi, standing at the edge of the stadium. Yusuke had apparently heard us and figured out what I was talking about, because he spun around, grinning.

"She hit you with her shoe!" He mimed throwing a shoe at Kurama's head, and the motion of the shoe bouncing off. "You fell right on your face. It's kinda hilarious now that you're not in mortal danger. Hey, you think I could get a copy that video tape?"

"Sorry." I said to Kurama, ignoring Yusuke's laughter. "It was the first solution I could think of."

"It's certainly the most unusual way anyone's saved my life." Kurama's lips were curled at the corners, so I guessed he didn't have any hard feelings about me knocking him on his face. "I suppose I must thank you."

I huffed a laugh. "Any time."

"Boys! Over here!" Botan was waving. She and the group of girls from before were standing near the treeline, away from the crowd of demons. At the sight of them, Kuwabara pushed away from Yusuke, straightening to walk on his own and strutting over to the girls. Yusuke followed at a much more sedate pace, looking wary. The masked fighter and Hiei walked off, apparently uninterested in greeting the girls. Kurama kept walking, following Yusuke to the girls, and I shuffled along with him.

All in all there were four women: Botan, the smaller mint-haired girl who was apparently called Yukina, a tall woman with long brown hair, and a younger girl with short brown hair who watched Yusuke sadly.

Yusuke approached the last girl like a man approaching the gallows, and once she knew he was following she strode of into the woods. Yusuke followed her, and Botan, apparently trying to be sneaky, slunk off after them both.

Yukina, meanwhile, had offered in a sweet voice to heal Kuwabara's injuries. He accepted enthusiastically and began to lead her away, beckoning to follow him to "a more romantic—I mean, healing!" spot.

This left only the tall brunette woman, myself, and Kurama. She eyed the two of us carefully.

"You need a hand?"

I glanced at Kurama, and Kurama glanced at me. Unsteady as we both were, it was probably better that we leaned on each other. If Shizuru supported one of us back to the hotel, the other would probably fall.

"I think we'll manage," Kurama replied. "But thank you."

"Suit yourself." The woman fell into step with us, tapping out a cigarette. "I'm Shizuru," she introduced once the cigarette was lit. "Kazuma's my baby bro."

I watched her for any sign that she held a grudge against me for almost killing her brother, but she merely exhaled smoke serenely and waited patiently for me to introduce myself in return. "Ren Nakano." Then, since she'd identified her relationship to Kuwabara, I added, "Yusuke's cousin, apparently."

This did not appear to surprise Shizuru. I remembered, now, that Koto had announced that fact to the entire stadium. "You gonna cheer him on for the rest of the tournament?"

It was a good question, but I didn't know the answer to it. Instead I asked, "What day is it?"

Shizuru told me, and I grimaced. "Why the face?"

"I'll have to stay through the end of the Tournament to figure out how to go home, if nothing else," I mused out loud. My mind whirred into action, but with all the energy I'd used today I was feeling too tired to start to coming up with ideas. At Shizuru's blank look, I clarified, "I've been missing for close to three months. I wouldn't be surprised if my parents have held a funeral already."

"And you can't exactly turn up on the doorstep and say you were abducted by demons," Shizuru exhaled with a puff of smoke.

"Not if I want to go back to high school, rather than an asylum," I agreed.

"We can clear some space in our hotel room if you want," Shizuru offered, with a kind smile that reached her eyes and made her look younger. "We humans should stick together."

"Thanks, but I should see what the boys plan to do next," I said, shaking my head, then stopped abruptly. Kurama shot me a curious look. "I do have a favor to ask, though," I revised, feeling awkward.

"What do you need, kid?" Shizuru asked, unfazed. The hotel was in sight now, and she stomped out the butt of her cigarette in the dirt as we approached.

"I have no clothes," I admitted. "Except for what I'm wearing right now, and this isn't even mine. D'you think I could borrow some for the next few days?"

Shizuru nodded, eyeing my dirtied gi with distaste. "Botan's about your size and she basically packed an entire wardrobe, so I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Thanks," I sighed in relief as Shizuru held the door open for Kurama and myself.

She smiled kindly again, glancing between the two of us, and said, "Tell you what, you get Kurama up to his room and I'll bring some clothes to your room in a bit."

I gratefully told her the room number for my team. Shizuru snagged an elevator for us. She got off on the third floor and Kurama and I stayed until the eighth. We walked halfway down the hall before he stopped me.

"Here." He stepped away from me at last, leaning on the doorway as he produced a key from his pocket and slipped it into the door. When he opened it, he paused, turning back to look at me. "Thank you, Ren," he said, sincerely. "You helped more today than you realize."

I had been thinking about how I would manage to stumble back to the elevator and down to my team's suite all on my own, but I was distracted by the darkness behind Kurama. "None of your teammates are back yet."

I had assumed that either Hiei or the masked fighter would beat them there. Kurama glanced at the darkness behind him and shrugged, unconcerned. "They'll all find their way back eventually."

I dropped my gaze to the small shrub still sticking out of Kurama's forearm. "How long did you say it would take you to extract that thing?"

Kurama looked momentarily surprised by the question, then smiled reassuringly. "I will be fine. Your team will be waiting anxiously for your return, I'm certain."

He was undoubtedly right, but I still didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone. Not while that thing was in his arm. "You should've thought of that before you told me that thing was called a _Death Plant_. I'm not leaving you here, alone, until it's out. How long?"

Kurama sighed, but widened the door to let her into the suite. "Perhaps 30 minutes."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, hovering by the door as Kurama sank gingerly onto one of the couches in the sitting area. "Cup of tea? Fluff your pillows?"

"Just the tea, I think." I was relieved to hear that he sounded more amused than annoyed, and I went to the small kitchenette to prepare it. When I returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of tea, he even seemed grateful for it.

"Thank you." He sipped it quietly, eyes going distant. I couldn't tell if he was lost in thought, or simply concentrating on removing the plant from his arm.

After a few minutes I said quietly, "Can I ask you something, or will I distract you?"

Kurama's eyes sharpened and slid towards me. I noticed for the first time that they were just as green as the plant sticking out of his arm. "Ask away."

Permission granted, I asked, "Why _is_ it called a Death Plant?" Kurama glanced down at the plant, and I elaborated, "Lots of plants are dead _ly_ , so what's special about this one that it got that name?"

Kurama smiled, a little wryly. "It's not usually a killer. This plant tends to follow death, not cause it. It grows on battlefields in the demon world, feeding on the flesh and residual energy of the recently deceased... but it will occasionally take root in a host that is injured, but still alive."

I tried to envision that as I sipped my tea. "That's kind of beautiful, actually." At Kurama's raised eyebrow, I added, "The eating corpses thing, not the killing people thing." It reminded me of the places in the world where corpses were left in the mountains to be devoured by carrion birds until the skeleton was clean. "Like a sky burial, but slightly less gruesome."

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose." Kurama sighed, and as he exhaled the plant seemed to shrink a little. It was like watching high-speed footage of grass growing, but in reverse. Kurama, for his part, looked tired, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Are you alright?"

"Just tired," Kurama assured me. With another exhale, the plant shrank, perhaps another half inch. "It's always more difficult to revert a plant to a seed than to coax it to grow, particularly when it's rooted in such an ideal host."

I didn't dare to ask more, for fear of distracting him from the process. Instead I watched, morbidly fascinated, as the plant in his arm grew smaller and smaller.

"I have a question of my own," Kurama said after a while. The plant protruding from his arm was now only about the size of a pencil, and he was regarding me seriously.

"Shoot."

"In the ring, when you were in danger of delivering a direct hit to Yusuke… you stumbled." Kurama watched for some sort of reaction.

If I recalled correctly, he hadn't been in the stadium when that had happened. Yusuke or Kuwabara must have told him while I was in my trance.

Sipping my lukewarm tea, I pointed out, "That's not a question."

"It was intentional, was it not?" I looked up from my tea, watching Kurama warily. His eyes were bright, and they conveyed the real question: _How much control did you have?_

I set down my teacup on the coffee table and laced my hands together tightly. My hands. In my own control. I didn't think I'd ever get over how good that felt.

"You saw how corrosive my energy is?" I asked, instead of answering Kurama's question directly. He nodded.

"It wasn't always like that. It became that way… like an immune response, fighting the veruka, corroding the device and the nanobots inside it. That small amount of corrosion, before Ichigaki discovered it and… _corrected_ it, allowed me a tiny sliver of control, once. I had to try very, _very_ hard, but once before, I was able to trip myself up." I ran a hand through my short, choppy hair, the result of the Doctor's hack job, and twisted my lips. "He upped the nanobots after that first time and assumed the problem was fixed permanently."

"But it wasn't," Kurama mused quietly. "You were waiting for an opportunity."

"Yes," I confessed. "In a way, having that small amount of control was worse than none at all. If I don't have any control, then the things I do, the people I kill, they're not really my fault. Right?" I didn't wait for Kurama to answer. "But I had _some_ control. And I looked in their eyes, and decided they weren't worth using it."

"Your other opponents would doubtlessly have died anyway," Kurama said, matter-of-fact. "I must admit to being grateful you had enough discretion to avoid crippling Yusuke."

I shrugged, echoing his words from minutes earlier. "That's one way to look at it, I suppose."

There was a small clatter behind me, and I twisted to see Hiei climbing in through a window. He looked surprised to see me in the suite. I was surprised, too, because this was the eighth floor, and the window he'd entered through did not lead to a balcony.

"Oh look, one of your teammates is back." I rose, picking up my teacup and rising to place it in the sink of the kitchenette. "I should get going."

"Ren—"

"Sorry I can't stay and chat," I said, talking over Kurama. "As you said, my team will be waiting for me." I pulled open the door and called over my shoulder, "Good luck with you vulture plant."

* * *

The boys all shot to their feet to greet me at the door when I entered the suite.

"There you are!" Ryo's shoulders sagged with relief. "We were about to go out and look for you."

"The match ended almost an hour ago!" En said, scanning me up and down as if looking for new injuries.

"I'm sorry I worried you all." And I was, sincerely. After everything we'd been through, I hated the thought that I'd worried them like that. "I was just helping Kurama patch himself up."

"We're just glad you're alright," Kai said reassuringly. He turned, plucking a small duffel back off of a side table. "A woman stopped by a few minutes ago and left this for you, and we just ordered food."

"Real food!" En cried excitedly, worry forgotten at the prospect of something other than the nutritious-yet-tasteless gruel we'd been fed by Ichigaki.

Kai chuckled. "Yes, _real_ food." Handing me the duffel bag he added, "You should have time to shower and change before it gets here."

So many luxuries all at once.

I lingered in the shower. Warm water all around, no desperate scrubbing over the sink of my cell. Washing my hair with the fancy hotel shampoo and conditioner and emerging in a cloud of steam, smelling like lavender and chamomile.

There were three different sets of pajamas, and I selected a light blue set covered in little yellow ducks, because they were silly and cute and I _missed_ that. I looked in the mirror, and I could almost see a normal high school girl looking back at me.

When I emerged, clean and dressed, Kai beckoned me to the low table in the middle of the room. My eyes widened at the sight of it, because the table was very nearly overflowing with food.

"The room is paid for by the Tournament committee," Ryo explained as I sat, smiling darkly. "So we ordered two of everything of the most expensive stuff we could."

En held up a platter, eyes dancing with mirth. "Caviar?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Pass me something fried."

We gorged ourselves happily, hardly speaking at all. It had been so long since we had eaten anything with _flavor_ or _texture_ , instead of the nutritionally-engineered slop that Ichigaki had provided us with. Only when we couldn't possibly eat anymore did we retire to the couches.

Master Metamura kept the conversation light, doing his best to distract his students from the memory of the last few weeks. Instead he told stories of happier times. And, to En and Ryo's chagrin, more embarrassing times.

"—and he walked straight into a pole," Metamura finished, eyes sparkling.

"Master!" Ryo groaned as En and I snickered at the mental image of tough-looking Ryo bouncing off a light post.

"You don't like that story?" Metamura leaned back into the couch, the picture of serenity. "Well then, there's always the story about En getting stuck in the tree…" En groaned then, hiding his red face in his hands.

I has to massage my face for a minute, then. It was beginning to hurt, I was smiling so damn hard.

It was wonderful, this feeling of warmth and safety and _family_ I felt with these people. Though our relationship had been forged in hardship—no, _because_ our relationship had been forged in hardship—I knew that these men would be my friends for the rest of my life. What we had endured together in those cells, in those labs, had tied us together intimately. It was a soul-deep connection, and where before it had been filled with pain and sadness and anguish, now it seemed to seize on our joy and relief and magnify it.

My heart was full.

I swiped at my eyes as Metamura finished The Tree Story, trying to pass off the moisture in my eyes as tears of laughter. Metamura shot me a knowing look, and I smiled, feeling for a moment like I, too, was his student.

As the sun set and we all turned in for the night, I snuggled into expensive sheets and revelled in the fact that the long nightmare was finally over. I was alive. En, Ryo, and Kai were free, and finally back with their Master, who would not only live but thrive.

* * *

I woke with a muffled scream.

The room was dark, and I was tangled in sheets. They held me down, restricted me, and I panicked for a moment, kicking at them as I panted. I lurched out of bed and over to the window, to reassure myself that I was in control of my body, that I was _free_.

Outside, the moon shone bright and full. Wind rustled gently in the trees. My heart hammered painfully in my chest.

"It's over." I said it out loud, trying to convince myself. "It's over. You're free."

My skin still crawled. There was something niggling at the back of my mind, an uneasy feeling that I was _forgetting_ something.

"It's over," I said again, in a whisper, but it came out uncertain, faltering. Like I was reasoning with myself, I said, "He's dead."

 _But is he?_

Of course he was. He had to be, didn't he? No one could have survived being knocked that far up into the stands. Not to mention all the stone and rubble that had covered him.

 _Don't underestimate what Doctor Ichigaki is capable of. You never saw a body._

"I never saw a body." I repeated the thought aloud, because it was true, and some of the tension in my mind eased as I spoke the words.

It was a ridiculous thought, but I knew I'd never sleep peacefully if I didn't know for sure. I needed to know, needed to see for myself that he was dead. That he couldn't hurt us anymore.

I dug through the bag Shizuru had brought in the dark until I found some boots and a jacket. I tugged them on over my pajamas and shuffled out of the hotel suite as quietly as possible. No need to wake any of the others if they were sleeping peacefully, I reasoned. I'd be back in half an hour. They'd never even notice I was gone.

Outside, the island seemed too quiet. The sea breeze in the trees, the distant crashing of waves, and the hum of cicadas were the only noise. It was jarring, compared to the roar of a stadium full of demons.

That had been only hours ago, I remembered as I trekked the lonely path to the stadium. It felt like days ago, already.

The stadium was not completely abandoned. Though it was closed for the night, in front a handful of demons paced or dozed. Maybe waiting for tickets for tomorrow, maybe just having nowhere to stay. I walked past them without incident. The stadium doors were locked, but they gave under a solid spirit-energy powered kick.

I entered, and I climbed.

Yusuke had made a further mess of the stadium in his fight with Jin. The Wind Master, too, had been knocked into the stands, thought at a lower level than Ichigaki had been. There was also the blackened, warped spot in the lower stands where my energy had vaporized a few demon bystanders. I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for their loss.

Finally I found the right pile of rubble. I approached cautiously, holding my breath. I waited for something to happen, for the rubble to shift, but all was quiet. I edged forward, nudging the rubble aside, back taut. I had to know for sure. I had to _see_ his body.

The pile of rocks fell away.

Nothing.

My heart jolted in panic. Maybe the stadium staff had removed the body? They'd clearly disposed of the demons I killed, after all.

But then I noticed the blood. Thick, dark purple blood, staining the rocks I'd pushed aside. Dribbling on the ground. Leading away. Down the stairs. Out of the stadium.

Heart in my throat, I began to follow the trail.

Every time I walked through a doorway or rounded a corner I expected to look down and see Doctor Ichigaki's body, but there was no sign of it. Just the blood splatters, dark stains suggesting a struggling, pained shuffle, out of the stands, out of the stadium, and into the forest.

When the blood led me to the treeline I paused, wondering if I should turn back. Wondering if I'd be ambushed by wandering demons in the forest.

My lips curled up in an unpleasant smile. "Ambush me, then. If you dare."

I stepped into the trees. It was more difficult to follow the trail of blood here, but the light of the moon helped it shine through the blackness. Within ten minutes I'd found my way to the entrance of a cave. From within, a dim light shone. Something metallic clanged.

My knees wobbled. I knew, when I saw the blood, that he must have survived. Must have walked away from Yusuke's attack, somehow. But I hadn't been prepared for the reality. I'd hoped to find his body, cold and bled dry on the forest floor.

A part of me wanted to run. Run, as fast as I could, all the way back to the hotel. To bury myself in Kai's arms and cry and let someone else deal with him. I didn't want to see Ichigaki alive again.

 _But you'll never sleep until you see him dead._

I walked into the darkness of the cave. A lantern was lit on a low table some ways away, and there, struggling on the ground, was the huddled, leaking form of Doctor Ichigaki.

The metallic clanging I'd heard earlier appeared to have originated from a tray of tools, knocked from one of the tables as Ichigaki stumbled and wheezed. As I stepped into the light, I was frankly amazed that he was still alive. He'd lost quite a bit of blood, and here and there white, gleaming bones protruded from his arms and legs.

My booted foot sent a wrench spinning a few inches away. Ichigaki jerked. "Who's there?!" He spun around, eyes wild and pointing a gnarled finger in menace. "Stay back! I'm warning you!"

I remembered the look of disdain on Doctor Ichigaki's face as I lay defeated at the hands of his robot. His utter disgust at my pain.

"Don't you recognize me, Doctor?" I spoke in the sweet, suck-upy teacher's pet voice I'd used when I was trying to wheedle information out of him. I stepped further into the light.

Ichigaki squinted, seeming to have trouble focusing on me. When at last his eyes seemed to settle on me, he seemed to relax. He even _smiled_.

"Nana." Purple blood bubbled at the corners of his lips as he sighed the name, fondly. "Of course you came. Of course you recognized the brilliance of my plans, in the end." The insane glint I was so familiar was was back in his beady black eyes. "Help your master to the healing pod."

Beyond where Ichigaki stood lay a familiar-looking device. Either it was the same one that had 'made me strong' or a very similar design.

I approached slowly him slowly. I reached forward and twisted my hand into the doctor's soiled lab coat, heaving him up. Ichigaki hissed in pain and spat, "Watch it!"

"Yusuke must have smacked you stupid..." I mused, calmly. It was surprising, how calm I felt now. My earlier panic was gone, replaced with a serenity unlike anything I'd ever felt. "...if you think I'm here to help you."

I formed an orb of gleaming golden energy in the hand not fisted in Ichigaki's coat. His eyes widened, and I was almost amused to note that it was sincere disbelief marring his face. Disbelief, then fear, then anger.

"Nana, I _command_ you—" I hefted my hand, spirit energy lighting up the cave like a disco ball. Ichigaki switched tactics, fear overwhelming anger. "I beg you! Please, spare me!"

I paused at that, considering. Slowly, I smiled. "You know what? I think I will." Ichigaki's breath rattled, eyeing me like he couldn't quite believe that his plea for mercy had worked. And nor should he have.

"I'm not as cruel as you are," I admitted to him, watching as his eyes widened in hope, in satisfaction. "I'm only going to kill you once."

I waited long enough for Ichigaki to take in my words, to realize what they meant. I waited for his eyes to widen, for pleas and demands to babble forth in that awful, gravelly, high-pitched voice—and then I brought the orb forward, and relished his screams.

His skin melted, then bubbled. His eyes rolled, then burst. I edged the energy forward further, then let it go. There was a sound of creaking bone, and then his head exploded, just as the minotaur demon's had.

Blood and bits of flesh sprayed my face and hair. Ichigaki's body went limp, and I dropped him.

Looking at his corpse, I waited to feel regret. His was the first life I'd ever taken of my own volition, after all. Surely I should feel… something?

But the calm serenity persisted. I wouldn't complain.

I turned, ready to sneak back into the hotel and sleep like a baby, but halted when I really took notice of the scene in the cave for the first time. Gleaming metal, blinking lights, syringes and computers and file cabinets…

 _I see you managed to find funding for your little project after all,_ Sakyo had said. I'd remembered wondering whether any of the humans in the hotel, draped in their diamonds and pearls, had contributed money towards my suffering.

Brow furrowed, I wove my way through the equipment and opened the file cabinet, looking for anything about what kind of sick person would fund Ichigaki's brand of science.

The first drawer told me more than I wanted to know, but nothing about funders. Instead there were notes and photographs of prior experiments, both successful and failed, human and demon. So many lives, warped and ruined in pursuit of the doctor's dream of a perfect killing machine.

Feeling sick, I closed the first drawer. I made to open the second but halted when a shadow appeared at the mouth of the cave. Instinctively I drew back, an orb of golden energy hovering at my fingertips, ready to fly.

Kurama stepped into the light. I let my energy dissipate as his eyes scanned me, the lab, and finally Ichigaki's corpse. His eyes lingered there for a long time, and I waited for him to make some comment on my first voluntary murder.

Instead he turned back to me and said easily, "It isn't wise to wander the island alone."

I stared at him. A small, bland smile hovered on his lips. Feeling my own lips tugging upward, I glanced pointedly over Kurama's shoulder, as if looking for a companion, then brought my eyes back to his.

"Looks like neither of us are very wise, then."

Kurama's smile became a little more sincere, but distant, like he was smiling at a joke I didn't know about. "I have little to fear in the forest." Glancing at the filing cabinet and the cave at large, he asked, "What are you doing?"

Thinning my lips, I yanked open the second drawer of the filing cabinet. "One of the rich guys said something to Ichigaki when we first arrived on the island," I said as I began thumbing through the files. " _I see you managed to find funding for you little project after all._ "

"Funding?" Kurama walked further into the cave, coming to a halt just a few feet away.

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" I looked up to meet Kurama's gaze and gestured vaguely at the lab with one hand. "There's got to be tens of thousands of dollars worth of equipment in this cave alone. Not to mention the lab where he kept us…"

I shook my head, turning back to the files. "I'd be surprised if there weren't at least a few people who funded Ichigaki's research here at the tournament." My fingers paused on the files, and I grimaced. "I kind of wish I'd thought to ask about it _before_ I blew his head off."

It sounded like Kurama was wandering the lab behind me. "And if you discover their identities?" He asked lightly. "What then?"

I turned to look at him again, trying to determine his motive behind the question. "I'm not on a mission to slaughter them all, if that's what you're asking," I said before turning back to the files. "But I'd rather know who had an interest in Ichigaki's research, in case they come looking to recoup some of their _investment_."

"You needn't worry about that."

Kurama said it so quickly, so matter of fact. I closed the drawer and turned, giving him my full attention.

"You sound confident."

Kurama leaned on one of the tables and crossed his arms, the picture of ease. I suddenly felt very self-conscious about standing before him in ducky pajamas.

"Ichigaki's experiments were exposed, very publicly," Kurama explained. "Spirit World will doubtlessly launch an investigation into the matter. If his funders wish to avoid attention from Spirit World authorities, they'll try to cover up their association with Ichigaki as much as possible."

"...What is Spirit World?"

Kurama straightened a little, like my ignorance had caught him off-guard. He recovered quickly, though. "It is, as the name suggests, where souls go when they die. In addition to managing affairs of the afterlife, they are primarily responsible for keeping the demon and human worlds separate, protecting humans from the supernatural."

I snorted before I could stop myself. "Dropped the ball a bit, haven't they?"

That seemed to trouble him. "It's strange," he mused, quietly. "Spirit World may be… inefficient, at times, but it's unusual that a well-known psychic master, three of his students, and the human cousin of their current spirit detective could be abducted by demons without their notice."

I chewed on that for a minute, trying to figure out where Kurama's mind was leading him. "Are you trying to imply that it _was_ noticed?"

"I don't know." He said it just a hair too quickly for me to truly believe him. My suspicions only grew when he asked, "Is there anything useful in those files?"

"Not in terms of finding out who funded his experiments." I drummed my fingers on the metal, thinking about what I'd seen in my snooping. "There are notes on his precursors to the veruka. Failed experiments. Schematics for that pod over there. Nothing useful."

Kurama hummed and crossed the lab, poking at what appeared to be a portable computer. I left him to it, yanking open the third and final drawer of the filing cabinet. I pored through it carefully, but it was the same as the first two. Nothing on funding.

I turned to Kurama. He was still, staring unblinkingly at the computer's screen. "You find anything useful on there?"

"Not that I can see." Kurama shut the computer smoothly. When closed, the thing looked like an ordinary briefcase. "But I'll bring it to Spirit World's attention, in any case. I wish to know how an operation of this magnitude could be overlooked."

I eyed him suspiciously. He'd found _something_ on that computer. I could feel it. I was tempted to demand that he hand the thing over, to tell me what he'd seen, but I didn't—partly because I suspected I didn't want to know exactly what he saw, and partly because I could see in those flat green eyes that Kurama would hear no argument. Grudgingly, I nodded.

"The sun will be rising soon." Kurama's eyes trailed over my shoulder, to the mouth of the cave and the slowly-lightening sky. "We should return to the hotel, before you're missed."

The thought of En, Ryo, and Kai waking to find my empty bed spurred me to movement. I hurried out of the cave, and in the pre-morning light I groaned. Kurama shot me a puzzled look, and I grimaced at him.

"I feel terrible." I pulled at my jacket and pajama top, both spattered with dark purple blood. "I borrowed these from Botan, and now they're ruined."

"Hydrogen peroxide." Kurama recommended it automatically, and with complete certainty. I raised my eyes to look at him.

"Really?" He nodded. I cracked a smile at the sheer absurdity of getting advice on how best to remove demon blood from clothes. "Experienced with that sort of thing, are you?"

Kurama shrugged, a too-innocent smile on his lips. "Or you could order laundry service," he proposed, voice light. "I dare say the staff won't ask any questions."

It actually wasn't a bad idea. "Bet they're pros at getting demon blood out of clothes," I mused. As we set off into the forest, I trailed behind Kurama, trusting him to lead the most direct way back to the hotel. He walked with sure footing, never faltering. He carried the computer in his left hand, and I noticed for the first time that the arm appeared completely plant-free.

"How are your injuries?" I asked, picking my way through the brush with a little more difficulty than Kurama. "I see you're not sprouting leaves anymore."

"They're healing quite well," Kurama assured me. "I should be completely recovered by tomorrow."

It was good news, but still I frowned. "Just in time to fight again. Why are you all even in this tournament, anyway?"

We re-emerged onto the main path near the hotel and Kurama's steps slowed, allowing me to catch up to him.

"We were 'invited,'" he explained slowly, uttering the last word with distaste. "Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei and myself have managed to make enemies of the powerful humans who run this tournament. They forced our participation." His eyes were dark. "And of course, the demons just want to see us perish on principle."

"Of course," I repeated, remembering the frenzied chants to _Kill the humans!_ "Well, the boys and I will be cheering for you." I held open the front door of the hotel and stepped back to let Kurama enter. "Make them regret inviting you, okay?"

Kurama smiled darkly, and for the second that look fell on me, I shivered in genuine fright. "We intend to."


	8. Lamenting Beauty

I tried to unlock the door to the suite and creep in unnoticed, but it was too late. Though it was barely dawn, there were shuffling movements and panicked voices from inside. I sighed, resigned and swung open the door.

"Ren?" Kai noticed me first, eyes going wide and shoulders slumping with relief. " _There_ you are!"

En ran into the room, feet pounding, and stared at me with red-rimmed eyes. "We woke up and you were gone." He surged forward and hugged me tight. Surprised and wheezing a little, I returned the embrace. "Don't _scare_ us like that."

"You're covered in blood." Ryo's voice was flat. En jerked back as if burned, looking horrified as he finally took in the state of me.

"It's not mine," I said, needlessly. Purple as it was, it couldn't have been. "...It's Doctor Ichigaki's."

"Ichigaki's?..." En repeated, like he was sounding out an unfamiliar, foreign word. "But, I thought Yusuke—"

"So did I." I swallowed and glanced away, staring out the window so I wouldn't have to look at Ryo's accusing gaze. "I woke up last night, and I just… had to be sure. I had to see his body for myself, see for _sure_ he was dead… But he wasn't."

"So you killed him." Kai, this time. My eyes burned, and I refused to look at him. The disappointment in his voice was bad enough.

"Yes."

Heavy silence for a long minute. Then Ryo spoke, sounding shaken. "You're so calm."

I hugged my arms around myself, dragging my eyes reluctantly away from the window to look at him. He was pale. "Should I not be?"

"You _killed_ someone, Ren." His voice was rising, nearly a shout. "And not because you were forced to."

The sadness and fear that had been churning inside my chest in the face of their disappointment hardened, solidifying into defiant anger. My hands clenched into bloody fists at my side.

"He killed me first," I spat, quietly. "He's lucky I only returned the favor once."

"Revenge isn't the answer," Kai said quietly. I refused to look at him, still keeping my eyes glued to Ryo. His eyes were burning.

"If you stoop to their level, aren't you no better than them?"

I jerked back, the words like a physical blow. I lashed out at him on instinct. "That sort of naive thinking is exactly what got you in Ichigaki's hands in the first place."

Dead quiet. I'd crossed a line, but I wouldn't take it back. I looked at my feet, vision blurring as my tears threatened to fall.

"Judge me if you want. But I'm not sorry." I was crying, but my voice was strong. It didn't waver. "I killed him. And if he was alive in front of me right now, I'd do it again."

The vow hung in the air. Eventually I marched past them all, locking myself in the bathroom. I stripped off Botan's borrowed clothes, folding them in a neat pile to send to the laundry services. Then, I washed away Doctor Ichigaki's blood.

When I stepped out of the shower, a single pointed tooth sat in the bathroom drain catch, along with three of my own short black hairs. I wrapped myself in a plush bathrobe and left the bathroom with my hair still dripping. En stood outside, waiting. His eyes were fixed on the ground, and remained even when I opened the door. I stood there, surrounded by steam, Botan's clothes in my arms, and waited for him to speak.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to mine. He looked young. Afraid.

"He's really dead?" A whisper. A trembling, _hopeful_ whisper.

"...Yeah."

En shuddered out a breath. "I feel bad saying it… but it's a relief." En swallowed. "Are you… okay?"

I gave the question serious thought. "Yeah," I said at last, truthfully. "I am now."

I returned to my room within the suite. I placed Botan's soiled clothes in a garment bag to be cleaned, then rummaged in the duffel bag for a clean set of pajamas. As I fumbled my fingers knocked against cold glass, and I furrowed my brow, drawing the odd thing out.

Nail polish. Bubblegum pink nail polish.

My eyes burned. I clutched the bottle and took a deep breath, but it came out shuddering, and the next breath built into a sob, and the next into a hiccuping, ugly cry. I couldn't explain why it happened, precisely. It was just such a simple luxury, so normal and _girlish_. It had no utilitarian purpose. It wouldn't clothe me, or feed me, or protect me from the elements. All it could do was color my nails, and make me feel pretty. Make me feel _normal_.

I struggled into fresh pajamas, tears still streaming down my face, and crawled back into bed. I fell asleep, still clinging to the bottle of nail polish, and drifted off back to sleep as the sun rose.

My dreams were untroubled.

* * *

The sun was high when I woke again. I took my time choosing clothes, relishing the freedom to do so and delaying the inevitable confrontation with En, Ryo, and Kai. Botan was clearly a colorful person. There were a wide variety of colors and patterns to choose from, and I laid out all the clothes on the bed, placing one piece next to another, deliberating. When hunger twisted my stomach and I could delay it no longer, I dressed in a bright blue sweater and a pair of jeans. On a whim, I tied back my choppy, uneven hair with a pale pink ribbon.

I edged down the hallway towards the main suite on quiet, socked feet. Maybe the others would be out. Or, if they weren't, maybe I could just walk past them. The hotel had a restaurant, I knew. As dismal as it would be to eat alone, it would be better than trying to choke something down while the people I cared about eyed me with silent judgment.

At first, the utter quiet of the place made me think that they truly had gone out, and relief mixed with disappointment in my gut. But then I passed the doorway to the main room and saw that they were still there. All three, arranged on the couches in the main room, looking somber.

I paused in the doorway, unnerved by the still silence. I was spotted immediately, four sets of eyes fixing on me with intense, rapt attention. Ryo shot up from his seat on the couch, striding forward. I edged back half a step, anticipating another fight.

Ryo bowed. I stared.

"I'm sorry." He was still bent over, apologizing to my feet. To my surprise he sounded truly regretful, like he had yesterday, turning away from his Master's gaze in shame. "I should never have compared you to Doctor Ichigaki. It was wrong."

I was too surprised to respond right away. Ryo straightened at last and continued earnestly, "I _know_ you're a good person. But the thought of you—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I just worry."

I felt unworthy of the apology, now. En, Ryo, and Kai had only ever tried to help me. They were pacifists, long before Ichigaki got hold of them. The idea of killing another living being was against everything they stood for. They cared about me, and I'd disappeared in the middle of the night on an island teeming with demons. And then, when I returned, I was splattered with blood.

Of course they'd worried. And Ryo had said something hasty, and _I_ had said something worse.

I swallowed my shame and struggled to find words.

"I'm sorry, too." I bowed to him, now. It was a little easier to address his feet, and avoid his too-sympathetic eyes. "Please… forgive me for what I said this morning." The apology sounded half-assed to my ears, but I couldn't bring myself to repeat what I'd said, to say loud again that they'd somehow had it coming, what Ichigaki did to them. "It was cruel."

"Of course," said Ryo.

So easy. Like I'd been forgiven long before I apologized. I probably had been. When I straightened again, En and Kai stood, too, and stepped forward. Kai rested a fatherly hand on my shoulder.

"We are your friends. We will always be here for you. Please remember that, even—" Kai shook his head with a small, rueful smile. "No, _especially_ when we don't agree with you."

"I'll remember." A relaxed silence followed my vow, but it was broken almost immediately by a loud gurgle from my empty stomach. I blushed, and the boys laughed.

"Come on," Kai said, beckoning me towards the kitchen. "We saved you some lunch."

I ate with relish, and we four retired to the main area once more. En turned the television on low volume, and Kai explained that Master Metamura was sleeping. Though Kurama had provided a cure for the ailment Doctor Ichigaki had afflicted him with, his body was still weak from the sustained illness. It would take time and rest for him to recover.

I felt a brief, sharp pang of guilt for causing him any unnecessary worry with my disappearing act. I distracted myself by focusing on the channels that En flipped by. Channel 666, when En paused on it, showed a fountain of blood.

En hastily clicked the remote, moving on. I stared at the screen, still a little rattled by the blood, before an explanation occurred to me. "They're _broadcasting_ the tournament?"

Ryo nodded while En settled on what appeared to be a trivia game show. "To the televisions on the island, yes. And I think it's being broadcast to Demon World, too, however that works."

"All of the fights are done for the day, though. _That_ ," Kai's lips were thin, his disgust at the display of violence apparent, "was simply a re-run."

"Gross." I muttered it without thought. Kai nodded sagely.

We sat for hours, enjoying each other's company. I would have preferred to be outside, but while I had slept earlier clouds had rolled in, and now the island was being pounded with heavy rains. The rainfall was so thick that the sky beyond the treeline was a singular gray-white mass. I couldn't even see the ocean.

Silently, I promised myself that when the rain cleared up I would run along the beach of the island until I couldn't move my legs anymore. I'd missed running terribly, and now that there was no prison cell or stupid device preventing me from doing so, my feet were itching to hit pavement.

"Master, you're awake!" En said sometime later, pleasantly surprised. I turned from staring longingly out the window while Kai greeted him and asked how he was feeling. Metatmura looked at me, too, and then stared hard, looking a little alarmed.

"Your energy," Metamura rasped, either ignoring or not hearing Kai's inquiry towards his health. Metamura's brows drew downward, and his hand shook for a moment, like he was considering reaching out towards me. He looked startled and uncertain, but it seemed to be more _concern_ than anything else. His eyes were flicking around me, but not quite at me.

I was beginning to feel unnerved. I cleared my throat gently and asked, "Is something wrong?"

Metamura's eyes snapped back into focus. He looked from me to his students, then back again, looking surprised to see all of us giving him the same puzzled, concerned look. "Can none of you see it?"

"See _what_ , Master?" En asked, clearly perturbed by Metamura's agitation.

Metamura didn't answer. He strode across the room toward me and halted maybe four feet away. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and poked at the air.

Nothing happened.

"How odd…" Metamura released a slow breath, seeming to relax a little bit. Meeting my eyes again he asked, "You're not doing this on purpose?"

"Doing _what_ on purpose?" I sent a puzzled glance at En, Ryo, and Kai in turn, and they all shook their heads, equally puzzled.

"And it's not visible, either…" Metamura hummed, rubbing his chin with one hand thoughtfully.

" _What's_ not visible?" I was getting tired of Metamura talking about and reacting to something that, apparently, only _he_ could see.

"Your energy," he answered finally. "I've heard about something like this before, but I've never seen it in person. Your energy is surrounding you in all directions, like a shield."

A shield? I glanced around me, but I didn't see anything, and I didn't feel any different. "Is it dangerous?"

Metamura considered it for a long moment. "No, I don't think so. The energy is inert, for now." He peered more closely at the air, then nodded more decisively. "I don't believe it should pose a danger unless you're threatened."

"That might not be such a bad thing to have, on this island," Ryo remarked. I shot him a small smile, grateful that he was so accepting of this latest weird occurrence.

"Yes, perhaps…" Metamura still looked a little troubled, but he didn't say anything more on the matter.

* * *

The knock on the door that evening puzzled us all. We all heard it, and then looked at each other, confused. We hadn't ordered food, so we weren't expecting anyone to come to our suite. And who else would possibly be visiting us here, on the island? It wasn't like we had friends—

I stopped that thought as soon as it occurred, correcting myself. _I_ had more than just a friend. I had family. And sure enough, when I checked through the peephole, a familiar face stood smiling on the other side of the door.

I opened it, confused. "Botan?"

Botan smiled brightly at me. "Hello, hello! You're looking much better." She looked me up and down, and her smile widened further. "And impeccable fashion sense, too."

I smiled back at her, trying not to think of the ducky pajamas currently sitting in a garment bag and covered with blood. "Thanks for loaning me some clothes."

Botan waved a hand, dismissing my gratitude. "Oh, you're more than welcome. Us gals have to stick together!" Botan jumped a little, an excited little hop as she seemed to remember something. Her eyes were the same color as the ribbon in my hair.

"Which brings me to why I'm here! Us girls—that's me, and Shizuru, and Keiko and Yukina—are going to bring the boys up some snacks and drinks and have a little party before the semifinals tomorrow, and we wanted you to join us." Botan spoke so quickly that it took me a few seconds to parse the question in her statement.

"I don't know…" I wasn't sure I wanted to leave the safe, familiar circle of En, Ryo, and Kai to spend time with Yusuke, who I hardly even knew, and his teammates and friends. I would be alone, and outnumbered. Not to mention, I had no way of knowing if Kurama had told them about last night. Although I guessed he hadn't, given the brilliant wattage of Botan's smile. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense, you're family!" Botan cried immediately. "And besides, the other girls want to meet you properly."

I'd look like a huge jerk if I turned down her invitation now. So, even though I felt it was a bad idea, I said, "Let me just put on some shoes, and let my friends know where I'm going."

I half-hoped that my boys would protest and say that it was a bad idea for me to go, but of course they didn't. They smiled and told me to have fun and get to know my cousin, and to let them know if I'd be out late. It was irritating, sometimes, how saintly they could be. And so I left our suite, following Botan down the hall in freshly-donned white sneakers, trying to smile like my stomach wasn't doing backflips.

"I like what you've done with your hair," Botan said while we waited for the elevator.

I touched the bow holding some of my hair back a little self-consciously. My hair was a horrible, choppy mess from the hack-job Ichigaki had done when he'd upgraded the veruka. Short and uneven on the top, and then shaved short at the base of my neck to allow the device's tendrils to access my upper spine.

Belatedly, I said, "Thanks."

The long silence had caused Botan to look at me with big, sad eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but the elevator dinged its arrival, and I boarded it with a sigh of relief. Botan jabbed the button for the eighth floor and started talking quickly, having apparently decided to pretend the little moment hadn't happened.

"The other girls will meet us up there—Shizuru took Keiko and Yukina downstairs to raid the place for snack and drinks already, so we should have plenty to last us all night!"

The elevator doors dinged open, saving me from having to respond. Down the hall, Shizuru did indeed await, with Yukina and the girl who'd led Yusuke into the forest the other day, who must have been Keiko.

"Look who I found!" Botan slipped a hand around my wrist, tugging me down the hall gently, but with enthusiasm.

Shizuru raised a lazy hand in greeting. The other hand held an overly-full plastic bag. "Hey, Ren."

Keiko was looking at me with wide, piercing eyes, as if she was trying to stare into my soul. A little shakily, she said, "I-it's nice to meet you." I wondered, then, if she was afraid of me. I supposed it was only natural, if she'd seen what I could do to people.

Yukina screamed.

I halted, frozen, still five feet down the hall from the girls, as Yukina dropped the drinks in her arms and fell backwards onto the floor.

"Yukina!" The other girls all cried out at once. Shizuru dropped her own bag carelessly, kneeling down to check on Yukina, who looked shaken.

Botan rushed forward, too, and I hesitated uncertainly before taking a hesitant half-step forward, asking, "Are you alright?"

Yukina cried out again and scrambled backwards on the floor, wide wine-colored eyes fixed on me with fear and pain and panic.

"Stay back! Please!" She held up two small, pale hands. As she threw them forward, there was a crackling sound, and a spark of golden energy. Yukina yanked her hands backwards, fingertips blackened.

Time broke.

It slowed, first. I stared at Yukina's fingertips for an hour before it sank in that they were blackened because of _me_. That she'd screamed because of _me_. That I'd _hurt her_.

I'd asked Master Metamura if my energy shield was dangerous, and he'd told me it wasn't. Not unless I was threatened. I had believed him. But Yukina was just about the furthest thing I could think of from threatening, and I'd hurt her.

Metamura was wrong. I _was_ dangerous.

Time did not snap back to normal, then. It skipped, instead, or perhaps I just lost it. There was the panic and fear and shame and utter self-loathing at the fact that I had _hurt_ someone, _again_ , and then there was the stab of cold rain.

I wasn't sure how I'd gotten outside, or how long I'd been there when I came back to myself. The rain was unseasonably cold, like icy needles on my skin. I welcomed it. It was grounding me to the present, and I needed that desperately, because I couldn't quite see where I was. There were the shapes of trees, but there were also dancing shadows, and voices.

 _Stop!_ _ **Stay back!**_ _Monster!_ _ **Please!**_

In my head, the little girl I'd slaughtered had mint blue hair. Or did Yukina wear her hair in pigtails?

I shut my eyes hard and opened them, trying to will the visions away. They weren't real, they couldn't be. I'd left Yukina behind in the hotel and that little girl was _dead,_ because I'd _killed_ her. She wasn't here anymore to shout accusations at me.

 _Monster_.

I tiled my face upward to feel the biting wind and rain. I hissed in satisfaction as the water stung my eyes, and finally I saw dark clouds above me. The voices died away, replaced by the howling of wind and the patter of rain against leaves and earth.

I was cold, I realized after a while. I'd mostly forgotten it, but I realized that I was soaked to the bone, and that my fingers and toes were beginning to feel numb. That probably wasn't a good sign, was it?

But I didn't want to move. Without the pain of the rain driving against me, without the chill in my limbs, I was afraid the voices and memories would come back. As long as I was out here, those things couldn't get me.

It might have been cowardly, but I would happily run from them as long as I could.

And so I lay back in the mud, and I surrendered myself to the rain.

* * *

I was being branded. Something far too hot had a grip on my arm, and it _burned_. I jerked my arm away from it weakly, moaning a wordless protest. As I pushed myself up to try to see what had assaulted me, my limbs shook and teeth chattered.

I must have fallen asleep in the rain, or maybe passed out, because my mind was sluggish and slow to react. It took me a moment to realize someone was calling my name.

 _Someones_ , in fact. Two of them. It took me a second to recognize them, their voices skill blurred. In the dark rain Kurama's hair looked black, clinging to his face and neck and making him look pale. Kuwabara's hair was likewise soaked, ruining his pompadour.

"Ren, can you hear us?" Kuwabara stretched out a hand. I shrank back from it.

"Y-y-y-yes." My teeth were chattering so hard I could barely utter the word.

"You're freezing." Kurama inched closer as he spoke, maintaining careful eye contact, like I was a wild animal he thought might bite. "You must get indoors."

Kurama edged forward. I tried to move backwards, but my limbs were stiff and unresponsive. All I managed was a small, half-hearted flop backwards in the muck.

"S-stay back." Why were they getting so _close_? I couldn't control my energy. It could attack them at any moment. They should stay _away_. I held up a pale, trembling hand, palm out, warding them off.

Kurama reached out, and his hand caught mine. It was impossibly warm, and his fingers didn't do so much as twitch in discomfort. I stared at our joined hands, uncomprehending.

"It's alright," Kurama said, softly. "You're not hurting me."

Warm tears spilled from my eyes, mingling with the rain and warming my frozen cheeks. "B-but I hurt Yukina."

"Yukina's fine," Kuwabara assured me. I didn't understand how he could look at me with so much sympathy, so soon after I hurt someone he cared so deeply about. "She's worried about you."

And that just made me feel worse, really. What was it with me today? Was I just destined to keep hurting people who didn't deserve it? I curled in on myself, shuddering out a labored breath.

Kurama's hand left mine, but before I could miss its warmth, I was enveloped. I gasped in surprise at the sudden change in temperature. Though he was just as soaked as I was, Kurama's body heat was like a roaring fire. Or, more likely, it felt that way because I was so freezing.

"Come on," he said. "We'll get you warmed up."

It irked me to be carried, especially bridal-style, but I wasn't in a physical or mental state to protest. Instead I stared up at the wet hair clinging to his jaw line and sighed, letting my eyes droop.

"You're going to catch a cold before the semifinals," I breathed into Kurama's drenched shirt, druggedly certain of this. The rain would make them both sick, and then they would lose their matches and die, and it would be all my fault.

Kurama huffed a soft laugh, and the movement of his chest jostled my head where it had come to rest on his shoulder. He glanced down at me, looking half amused, half relieved. "I think we'll be fine."

Kuwabara's grinning face appeared over Kurama's shoulder. "Yeah, what do you take us for, Ren? We're not wimps. 'Sides, a little rain's nothing compared to all the demons."

I thought about this, brows drawing together in concentration, and then nodded, conceding the point. Demons were worse than the rain. Said rain stopped abruptly, then. I blinked in surprise, then shut my eyes tight at the sudden brightness of the hotel lobby.

"Kuwabara," Kurama said as I blinked and grimaced, re-adjusting to the light. "Fetch your sister. I'll bring Ren back to her team's suite."

Kuwabara jabbed the button to call an elevator and furrowed his brow at Kurama. "I can do that, but what do we need my sister for?"

"Ren will need assistance to get out of these clothes," Kurama said, utterly calm. Kuwabara stared at us both blankly for a moment, then flushed bright red.

"Right! Sister!" Kuwabara nodded vigorously. "I will bring Shizuru!" An elevator dinged, and Kuwabara dashed into it. In his haste, he forgot to hold the door for us. The doors closed, leaving me and Kurama in the lobby.

Kurama sighed softly, exasperated. Since he quite literally had his hands full with me, I raised a shaky hand and stretched, inelegantly smashing the button. As it lit up, a drop of water splashed my face, and I scrunched my nose, looking upwards for the culprit. The source, I realized, was Kurama's hair.

"Sorry," Kurama said, though I could have sworn I saw a corner of his lips twitch upwards briefly before he tilted his head back to avoid dripping on me any further. Still not satisfied, I raised my clumsy, tremulous hand and brushed his hair back over his shoulders. Kurama kept still and allowed this.

"S'okay," I murmured when I'd finished. "At least we're ruining these rich assholes' carpets."

The elevator arrived. I fumbled to press the button for the right floor, and then we rode upward in silence, the only sound the soft _drip, drip, drip_ of our hair and clothes. When we reached the suite Kurama used his foot to rap on the door. We waited maybe half a minute before it swung open.

"Kurama?" Ryo looked politely curious for a split second before he spotted me. " _Ren?_ " Turning his gaze back to Kurama, Ryo demanded, "What happened?"

"We got caught in the rain, I'm afraid," Kurama said, voice light. He sounded so sincere that I might even have believed him, if I wasn't still soaked and shaking in his arms. "May we come in?"

Ryo stepped back to allow us in. His hands twitched for a second, like he was thinking about scooping me out of Kurama's arms, but he seemed to decide against it.

"Ren?" En, Kai, and Metamura had been drawn by Ryo's raised voice. "What happened, are you okay?"

I tried to smile reassuringly, but my lips were stiff. "I'm f-f-fine."

"She was outside for a while," Kurama said in the face of my chattering speech. "She'll be fine once she's had a chance to dry off and get warm. Which bedroom is hers?"

"Here." Kai opened the door for Kurama. "I'll fetch some dry towels, for both of you."

Kurama set me gently down on the bed. In the absence of his warmth I shuddered violently. Uncaring about ruining the bedding, I wrapped the bed's plush comforter around me and huddled into it. I breathed on my hands and grimaced as the warmth returned feeling to my fingers, pins and needles replacing the numbness. Kurama watched me do this, looking wet but otherwise completely unbothered.

"Aren't you cold?"

Kurama shook his head, the ghost of a teasing smile playing on his lips. "I'm not the one who decided a puddle was an ideal place to take a nap."

I dug my fingers into the blanket, glancing away. Drowsy from the cold and distracted by Kurama and Kuwabara's arrival, I'd briefly forgotten exactly _why_ I'd needed to be rescued from the rain. Not hurting Yukina, but what came after. Blacking out. Flashbacks. Voices.

Voice rough, I muttered, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Any hint of a smile of Kurama's face disappeared, his brows furrowing. He leaned forward, but before he could speak, Kai reappeared, Shizuru out his side. They both carried a small stack of towels.

"Hey." Shizuru greeted. Her voice was mild and smoky, and her eyes looked softer than they had when I first met her. "Let's get you out of those clothes, huh?"

Shizuru strode in, and Kurama stood, directly one last, searching glance at me before following Kai out the door and shutting the door behind them. Shizuru set the stack of towels down on the bed and gave me a patient look.

"You're gonna have to surrender the blanket."

Instead of obeying the unspoken command I pulled it tighter. From within its confines I felt safe enough to ask in a small, barely-audible voice, "Is Yukina okay?"

Shizuru blinked. "What, my baby bro didn't tell you? She's fine." At my skeptical look she said, "She was more surprised than hurt. There wasn't even a mark on her hands, so you can stop beating yourself up about it. But she _is_ worried about you, so if you want her to feel better you'll have to drop the blanket and get dry before you catch your death."

Reluctantly, I dropped it. You could hardly tell that the clothes I'd been wearing were blue once. They were saturated with mud, now.

"I ruined Botan's clothes again," I murmured mournfully. At this rate I wouldn't be able to return any of the clothing I'd been loaned.

"Again?" Shizuru repeated, eyebrows raised. After a second she shook her head, "You know what? Forget I asked. I don't think I want to know."

I did my best to undress on my own, but my fingers were still clumsy and unresponsive, and my arms were stiff. I needed Shizuru's help to remove my socks, to shimmy out of the wet, clinging jeans, and to work the water-logged sweater over my head. All told, it took nearly fifteen minutes for us both to peel the muddy clothes off, towel my hair and body dry, and get me dressed in warm, dry pajamas.

When I emerged into the main room with Shizuru, wearing the bed's comforter like a plush, fluffy cape, Kurama and Kuwabara were apparently explaining what had happened to my teammates and Master Metamura.

"—took off into the rain," Kuwabara was saying. He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of me and his sister.

"It was an accident," Shizuru said simply, speaking like I'd done nothing more serious than dropping and shattering a water glass. "Her energy just lashed out on its own."

"Then the responsibility is mine," Metamura said, regretfully. "I noticed the change in Ren's energy. I should have predicted that this would happen."

"But how, Master?" En's eyes were wide at the suggestion that his master could have misjudged something. "You said her energy would only react if Ren was threatened."

Metamura shook his head. "I must have been mistaken."

"Perhaps not." All eyes turned to Kurama at his calm pronouncement. He explained, voice clinical, "The doctor's robots were hybrids, incorporating both technology and demon genetics. I suspect that after so long fighting against the invasion of the demonic nanobots, Ren's energy now sees all demons as a threat."

It sounded plausible enough. It would certainly explain why my energy had lashed out at Yukina alone, leaving all the other girls untouched.

"But wait, Kurama," Kuwabara frowned. "You're a demon, too, and you look fine."

Kurama was a demon? I jerked my head to look at him, scanning for injury or some other sign of his demonic nature. Other than his unusual coloring there was no indication at all that he was anything but human.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Kurama assured me. "I'm… something of a special case." This seemed to make sense to Kuwabara, but only to Kuwabara. Kurama didn't explain further, and no one pressed him.

"Right." I said, deciding to let the mystery of Kurama's immunity to my energy lie for now. I was preoccupied instead with what this new development meant for _me_. "So, I'll just have to avoid demons… while stuck on an island _covered in demons_."

"Don't worry." Kai put a comforting hand on my blanket-covered shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

I doubted it, but Kai had yet to lead me astray yet so I didn't argue. Instead I turned my eyes back to Kurama, Kuwabara, and Shizuru. "Thank you all, for helping me. Again." I sketched a shallow bow of gratitude, make awkward by the blanket draped over me. "Since it looks like I won't be able to do it myself anytime soon, would you please apologize to Yukina for me?"

"I'm sure apologies aren't necessary," Kurama said, but quickly revised his statement as I opened my mouth to argue. "—but we will pass them along nonetheless."

With that promise, the three left our suite. When the door closed behind them I collapsed onto the couch, curling into a tight ball of blankets with a heavy sigh. My boys sat down all around, still radiating concern.

"Are you okay?" En posed the question softly. I peeked at him from my cocoon of blankets and guessed, by the width of his eyes and the twitch of his hand, that he was not inquiring about my _physical_ well-being.

I thought for a while before I answered, trying to sort through my emotions. It was exhausting, trying to pick through all of them and figure out why I was feeling what I was feeling. Eventually, though, I was able to pinpoint the reason behind the tightness in my chest.

"I'm angry," I confessed in a whisper, gazing at the pattern on the blanket rather than looking at any of my friends. "I just got control of my body back, and now this happens. Another thing I can't control." _Another thing that hurts people_.

"For now." Ryo said it dismissively. "Something like this was bound to happen eventually. It's not normal to have such a good handle on your energy with so little training. You know that, right?"

I eyed Ryo uncertainly, trying to decide whether I should be offended. "I think you and I have very different ideas of what's 'normal'."

"What Ryo is trying to say," Metamura said, casting a short, admonishing glance toward his student, "is that you've shown a remarkable aptitude for mastering your energy so far—and that it's not at all unusual for you to struggle with this now. One might even say it's overdue."

That sounded much more encouraging. "Really?"

Metamura nodded. "It will take time. But you can master it, with practice."

"We'll help you all you need," Kai assured me. En, Ryo, and Metamura all nodded in agreement. Something in my chest that had been frozen, by rain or by trauma, melted into soft warmth.

"Thank you."

Someone tuned the TV to a mindless game show. En and Kai sat on either side of me, their body heat seeping into my blankets and warming me further. Toasty warm and exhausted, I fell asleep between them on the couch.


	9. The Beginning of the End

I finished the final fold and fussily rearranged the paper, evaluating the finished product with narrowed eyes. Satisfied that it was as good as I could make it, I set the paper crane down on the table with its brothers. There were five in all, one for each member of Team Urameshi.

It had been a passing idea at first, the cranes. Since Yusuke's team would be fighting the semifinals in a stadium full of demons, and since my energy had decided to indiscriminately _attack_ demons, there was no way I could cheer them on in person. I wanted to wish Yusuke's team good luck in the semifinals somehow, though, and I'd absently wondered aloud at breakfast whether a hotel this swanky would have a gift shop that carried origami paper.

I'd cut off the thought with a shake of my head, though. After the incident last night, I'd been left feeling useless and embarrassed. Not only had I hurt Yukina, I'd completely flipped out, forcing Kuwabara and Kurama to come rescue me the night before their next match.

I'd be less of a burden on them if I just stayed away. And so, I gave up on the idea of the cranes.

Or at least, I had, until En and Ryo returned early in the afternoon, triumphant smiles on their faces and arms full of origami paper. They had not explained where they'd actually acquired it, when I asked, but the satisfied glint in Ryo's eyes made me think it might have involved threatening some of the tournament staff.

With the paper in front of me and En and Ryo watching, I didn't have the heart to voice my misgivings about the little project. Doing so would be a sure-fire way to spend the rest of the day in an impromptu therapy session, talking with four men about my feelings. So instead, I swallowed my doubts and got to folding.

"Are you done?" En sat beside me on the couch, looking at the five cranes.

Yusuke's was a bright blue, the color of his spirit energy. Kuwabara's, orange, with an angular geometric pattern that had reminded me of his sword. For the masked fighter, purple cranes on a pale pink background that had reminded me of her hair. Hiei's was black, with swirling patterns of purple and gray that reminded me of his seething energy, felt even behind that stupid sorceress's barrier. Kurama's was floral, covered in greenery that bore a passing similarity to his Death Plant.

"Almost. Let me write a note."

I selected a creamy piece of paper with a texture like parchment and folded it into the shape of a greeting card. On the outside I scrawled _Team Urameshi_ , and then hesitated on what to write. Part of me wanted to explain why I was providing the cranes in the first place, to explain that I couldn't attend the match on account of the fact that I was currently an involuntary demon bug zapper. But I figured that they knew my condition well enough, and wouldn't need the reminder.

In the end I wrote carefully, _I didn't have time to fold one thousand, but I hope these will bring you good luck anyway. - Ren_

I placed the cranes in a small gift box and affixed the note to it with a small ribbon, then handed the box to En.

It _might_ have been safe for me to deliver the box to Team Urameshi's suite, but I wasn't willing to risk it. Immune though Kurama might be, my aura would probably hurt Hiei, and I had no clue whether the masked fighter was human or demon. Even if I left it at the door, there was a chance they could be singed if they were standing close enough to the door.

And so, En was playing delivery boy. He left with the box, and I tidied the table, stacking up the unused paper and discarding the plain, slightly lopsided cranes I'd used to refresh my memory on the folding technique. On my way back to the couch, I paused as I kicked something on the ground, sending it rolling across the plush carpet. I squatted to examine it.

Pink nail polish.

I wondered how it had gotten all the way out here. I remembered falling asleep with it yesterday morning... It must have gotten tangled in the blanket, and then fallen out here when I'd dragged the bedding with me onto the couch last night. I picked up the bottle with trepidation, remembering the overwhelming flood of emotions that had burst out of me when I'd first come across the thing among Botan's clothes.

But there was no tidal wave of emotion this time. Just an ordinary bottle of nail polish, sitting in the the palm of a hand that had killed dozens of people.

Feeling defiant, I sat on the couch and opened the bottle. I would have blood on my hands for the rest of my life, and there was nothing anyone could do about that. But I _could_ do something about the color of my nails.

Come evening, I was sprawled on the couch, fingers and toes a cheery bubblegum pink, watching the pre-match coverage for the semifinals. Metamura had excused himself to his bedroom, citing exhaustion. I suspected he simply didn't care to watch the bloodshed, but I didn't fault him for it. En, Ryo, and Kai had left some time ago, I assumed to go to the stadium—and so I was startled when the door to the suite opened and all three trooped in, arms full of popcorn and candy and drinks, like they'd just raided a movie theater concession stand.

"Quit hogging the couch," Ryo ordered as he spread some of the bounty on the low table before the television.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, checking the time on the television. "The first match is supposed to start in ten minutes."

Ryo sank onto the couch next to me and looked almost baffled, like I'd babbled nonsense at him. "What do you think? We're getting ready to watch the semifinals."

En sat down on Ryo's other side and passed him a bucket of popcorn. Kai handed me a soda before he took a seat in a nearby armchair, and I took it, nonplussed. "You guys aren't going to the stadium?"

"Without you?" En scoffed. "No way."

Confusion rapidly transformed into guilt. "You guys don't have to stay here on my account. If you hurry—"

"Ren," Kai admonished gently, and I shut up. "We're sticking together."

I didn't argue any further. I wouldn't have blamed them for attending the match, but I had to admit it felt good to know that I wouldn't be watching Yusuke and his team fight all on my own. Instead, I got to slurp lemon soda and munch popcorn with my friends, far away from the crowd of demons currently baying for Yusuke's blood in the stadium.

They'd bumped Koto from the ring, apparently, because a new girl began the introductions, announcing that the first match would be Team Urameshi versus Team Uriatogi. As she ran through the names of each team member I asked, "Do we know anything about their opponents?"

"No," Ryo said, looking a little irritated. I turned to look at him as he explained, "They were matched with a couple of weaker teams in the preliminary matches, like the demons we fought in the first round. Nothing that forced them to show what they're really capable of."

"Maybe we'll luck out, and they'll be weak, too," I said, though I didn't believe it was a possibility for even a second. Team Urameshi had luck all right, but so far it had usually turned out to be _bad_ luck.

"Hang on." Kai was frowning at the television as Koto announced the team members of Team Urameshi. "Where are Yusuke and the masked fighter?"

I refocused on the television and saw that Kai was right. Both Yusuke and the masked fighter were missing. Only Kurama, Hiei, and Kuwabara stood at the edge of the ring.

"They're fighting with half a team," Ryo said, voice flat. " _Again_."

"They beat us with half a team," En reminded him.

"And Team Masho," Kai added.

Good points. I squinted at the screen, trying to gauge the mood of the team members who were actually present. "They don't _seem_ worried…" Kuwabara was the only one who seemed at all nervous. Kurama looked serene, and Hiei almost bored.

Apparently in the semifinals, the team captains were limited in their ability to set the terms for battle. Tournament rules required that the winners needed to win five fights to advance to the finals. Onji, the old, frail-looking man on the opposing team suggested leaving the match-ups to chance, deciding who would fight based on the rolling of dice. Team Urameshi agreed. I relaxed a little bit more, figuring they must truly be confident in their ability to win if they were willing to let the match-ups be determined at random.

Onji rolled the dice. First fight: Hiei vs. Makintaro.

Hiei looked darkly pleased. Makintaro swaggered into the ring with a cocky sureness I recognized from the minotaur demon I'd slaughtered in the first round. It seemed like the bigger, less-human looking demons had a tendency to think that size meant strength. Makintaro clearly didn't think much of Hiei's diminutive height, and dismissed him as easy prey.

Juri began the match. Hiei's drew his sword slowly, almost lazily, and then his form flickered for a moment. I thought it was some sort of problem with the cameras in the arena before I noticed Hiei holding one arm behind his back, and a puddle of blood dripping behind him.

"Too fast for the cameras," I realized aloud. Too fast for Makintaro, too, apparently. He didn't seem to realize he was missing half an arm. He did seem to notice the puddle of blood forming behind Hiei, though, because he sneeringly asked whether he'd had an accident in his trousers. "I'm almost embarrassed for him."

Hiei held up Makintaro's left forearm, which was easily as big as Hiei's own torso. Makintaro panicked at the sight of it, only then realizing its loss. Purple blood sprayed from the wound, and Makintaro hopped around, howling in pain and clutching it. Hiei, apparently deeming the fight over, tossed the appendage into Juri's arms and began to stride out of the ring.

The fight was not over, though. Before our eyes, Makintaro re-grew miss missing arm—but now, instead of a hand, he had an axe blade at the end of his arm. He ran after Hiei and swung hard. For a fraction of a second, it seemed like his blow had landed. But it was once again a trick of the cameras, the frame rate too slow to capture Hiei's movements.

Hiei reappeared on Makintaro's shoulders and drove his sword into the demon's skull. Now, without question, the fight was over.

It couldn't have taken more than thirty seconds from start to finish. I wondered if that was a tournament record.

Another roll of the dice and Hiei was up again. This fight lasted much longer, on account of Kuromomotaro's stupid utility belt full of smoke canisters. Every time he exposed himself to one of Hiei's attacks, he became immune. The demon used one to become immune to Hiei's sword, then another soon after.

"Oh, come on!" I began to lose my patience once Kuromomotaro used his second canister to develop an immunity to Hiei's fist of the mortal flame. "The sword may not work on _him_ , but you can at least cut off his stupid belt before he can use any more of those canisters!"

Ryo steadied the bucket of popcorn I'd almost upended in my excitement and shot me an amused glance. "You know he can't hear you, right?"

Kuromomotaro used yet another canister, and I groaned in frustration. But it all turned out alright in the end. Hiei managed to summon a sword of black and purple flames, killing his opponent at long last.

The next fight pit Kurama against Ura Ureshima, a shorter demon who carried a fishing pole and bore a passing resemblance to Yusuke. The match began, and Ura swung his fishing line like a whip. Kurama produced a rose from his hair, and with a flick of his wrist the flower became a whip of its own. Whip against whip, they began to lash at each other from a distance.

The fight dragged on. Both opponents had looks of deep concentration on their faces, but neither made a move for a decisive strike.

"Why isn't Kurama striking?" En asked eventually, puzzled. "They're both keeping their distance."

"They're not trying," Ryo said with certainty.

Ura stumbled. Slowly, Kurama made to strike at him—and while Kurama hesitated, Ura struck, tangling Kurama in his line and pulling tight. Blood bloomed on Kurama's arms and legs. Kurama cried out and fell. His whip tumbled from his hands, reverting to a normal rose.

Ura didn't give him time to recover. Kurama darted across the ring, dodging Ura's deadly fishing line. But after a while, it became clear that Ura wasn't trying to _hit_ him, but _trap_ him. The ring was surrounded by a forcefield. Ura opened a box and smoke poured out, filling the ring but not moving past the edge.

"A smoke screen?" Ryo said doubtfully. "What's the point?"

"Maybe he wants to sneak up on him," En proposed.

I shook my head. "It's a little over-elaborate for that, isn't it? There's got be be some trick to it… poison?" I shook my head again, immediately discarding my own suggestion. "But I doubt that would beat Kurama, considering how he diagnosed and cured Master Metamura so quickly."

For long minutes the smoke curled against the forcefield. From the soundbooth, Koto, too, wondered what was going on. Juri had gone silent.

"I don't like it," En said. "Either or both of them could be d—" He hesitated. " _Defeated_ in there, and we wouldn't be able to see through the smoke."

A sword pierced the forcefield. The barrier broke and smoke billowed outwards, dissipating. Within the ring were two unfamiliar figures. The first was a small red demon wearing Ura's clothes, a sword in its skull. The other was...

Koto just about swooned into the microphone. "I've just seen my personal fantasy! Sexy ears, a dreamy tail—who _is_ this love god?"

The demon in the ring had to be at least six feet tall. In addition to the ears and tail, he also sported long silver hair. But as the smoke dissipated, silver faded to red. Ears and tail disappeared, and the figure shrank to its original form. Kurama.

"I guess he really _is_ a special case," I murmured, remembering his words from the night before. I wondered how that worked.

Kurama was declared the winner. The dice were rolled again, pitting Shishiwakamaru against any member of the Urameshi team. There was a bit of squabbling between Kurama, Kuwabara, and Hiei about who would get to fight. In the end they resorted to rock-paper-scissors to decide the matter, and Kuwabara won.

Well. Won at rock-paper-scissors, anyway. He lost to Shishiwakamaru, who enveloped him in some sort of transparent cloak that made him disappear.

"Do you think he's okay?" I asked uncertainly as Juri declared victory for Shishiwakamaru.

"I'm sure he's fine," Kai assured me. As much as I trusted Kai's judgment, I wasn't sure whether he was being honest, or just trying to comfort me.

Shishiwakamaru rolled the dice: free choice for his team, Masked Fighter for Team Urameshi. Shishiwakamaru elected to stay in the ring, while Kurama and Hiei debated who would take him on in the masked fighter's place. In the end, neither of them did.

The masked fighter finally showed up.

The match began. The masked fighter dodged and danced around Shishiwakamaru's sword, but she moved much slower than I remembered. Shishiwakamaru noticed it, too, and sliced off the fighter's mask, revealing…

An old woman. En, Ryo, and Kai all sucked in surprised breaths.

"What?" All three were transfixed, staring at the television. "What did I miss?"

"That is Master Genkai," Kai explained, barely glancing away from the screen. "A powerful human psychic. Her name is renowned, both among psychics _and_ demons."

"We met her once before," En added. "Master Metamura introduced us all."

"But Shishiwakamaru's right, isn't he?" On the television, Shishiwakamaru was calling foul play. The match was paused as the tournament committee deliberated whether or not Team Urameshi had been cheating, using the disguise to use more than one fighter. "It was a young woman underneath that mask in the fight against us."

"I don't know," Kai confessed.

I hummed thoughtfully. On the screen, they began to replay footage from our match, when the masked fighter's mask had first slipped off. We all stiffened at the sight of our blank faces, relaxing only when the image paused on the young face of the woman who'd freed us all from the veruka. She couldn't be more than 25, while the old psychic in the ring with Shishiwakamaru had to be at least 70.

"That doesn't make sense, though." I twisted my hands in my lap.

"Why not?" Ryo shrugged. "It may not be honest, but what is, in this tournament?"

"No, I mean— _if_ that was their strategy, it doesn't make sense." I jabbed a finger at the screen. "How many fighters do _you_ know that are under 5 feet tall?"

"Uh…" Ryo thought about it. "Just Genkai, I guess."

"There can't possibly be that many fighters who are that small, let _alone_ fighters willing and able to fight on a team that the tournament committee seems to have such a strong grudge against," I reasoned aloud.

"But they're clearly different people," En said. I dragged a hand through my hair in confused frustration. What was going _on_?

"Team Urameshi did not cheat." The camera switched to focus on a mountain of a man in dark sunglasses who'd apparently stolen Koto's microphone. Ryo and Kai both sucked in sharp breaths.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Toguro." Kai looked pale. "His team are the returning champions."

Toguro went on to reveal Genkai's true identity to the entire stadium, explaining that her more youthful appearance was a side effect of her Spirit Wave technique.

The match was allowed to continue. Genkai managed to win by turning the energy from one of Shishiwakamaru's own attacks against him. It was the fourth win for Team Urameshi. All they had to do was win one more match. And with Shishiwakamaru defeated, the only eligible fighter on the opposing team was the old man, Onji.

Kuwabara returned just in time to fight him. While it was a huge relief to see that he was alive and unharmed, it was a huge disappointment to see him disappear, again, precisely the same way he had in his match against Shishiwakamaru.

The dice were rolled a final time. Genkai versus Onji.

Or, as we soon learned, Suzuka. 'Onji' discarded his old man disguise, revealing a ridiculous clown in a garish get-up. None of us laughed at the sight of him, too surprised by the bizarre turn of events to be amused. We did laugh, though, when Genkai beat him to a pulp with nothing but her bare fists, winning the semifinal round for Team Urameshi. The four of us cheered loudly, completely forgetting to keep quiet in consideration of Master Metamura, still resting in the other room.

Metamura emerged, leaning on the doorway to the main room and drinking us in with a tolerant smile. "I take it Yusuke's team won?"

"Master!" En went red, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry! Did we wake you?" Ryo, Kai, and I all added our own murmured apologies.

"Don't trouble yourself about it," Metamura dismissed, sinking into the free armchair with a sigh. "It was about time for me to get up, anyway. What did I miss?"

"Master," Kai said immediately, "did you know that the masked fighter on the Urameshi team was Master Genkai?"

Metamura's eyebrows rose, but only a little. Surprise at the question, but not what it implied. "Yes, I did," Metamura admitted. "I recognized the Spirit Wave technique she used to free you from those awful devices. But since she apparently wished to remain anonymous, I did not mention it."

Kai summarized for Master Metamura the revelation of Genkai's identity that had taken place shortly before. Metamura looked thoughtful, but if he drew any conclusions from the course of events, he didn't share them.

We cracked open more sodas and snacks, summing up the highlights for Metamura with smiles on all our faces. It was the easiest win so far for the Urameshi Team—that we'd seen, anyway. There'd been no emotional turmoil, and while they'd been missing a few members, it seemed that this time it had been by choice. It left us feeling optimistic that Yusuke and his friends could win, and pull one over on the crooked tournament committee that had invited them in the first place.

The optimism only lasted until the next match started.

The other semifinal round was Team Toguro versus Team Go-Renja, and it was gruesome. Karasu, with his explosive power, Bui, with his sheer size and speed, and, worst of all, the elder Toguro brother.

Toguro the elder was pale and narrow, and even through the television screen he seemed to radiate madness and malice. He viciously stabbed through multiple opponents at once, toying with them before they died.

It was sick. Fighting, I could understand. Humans had martial arts tournaments, after all. People even got hurt in them. And if demons' idea of fighting tournaments was a little more brutal, that, too, I could understand.

But killing? Not out of self defense, or vengeance, or anger, but for pleasure? I could not understand how someone could take so much pleasure in someone else's pain, toying with their victims for sheer amusement before finally ending their lives.

We watched the match in silence, drinks and snacks untouched. The party atmosphere, the bubbly optimism from Team Urameshi's win, had vanished.

* * *

Hanging Neck island was not large. It was only about three miles long, and even with the crags and juts of its coastline, it couldn't have been much more than ten miles in circumference. I had hoped to loop the island at least twice—not quite marathon distance. Before I'd been taken by Doctor Ichigaki, that would have been a long, hard run that required months of training and preparation beforehand. Now, running twenty plus miles was hardly more strenuous than a morning jog.

But it wasn't to be, unfortunately. Hanging Neck Island was rocky. It only had about four miles of real beach, and a chunk of that area was dedicated to docks. The rest of the shoreline was all steep cliffs and sharp rocks, straight into the ocean.

Instead of circling the island, I was forced to run back and forth on the beach. Once. Twice. Five times.

It was nice. I had needed this for a long time, needed the freedom, the wind in my face, the steady breathing and the blissful, thoughtless peace that extended running always brought me. It was serenity, as long as I was moving.

I had especially needed it this morning. I had woken up tense, tired, and irritable, having rested poorly after watching the Toguro team slaughter their opponents so easily. In the hopes of actually being able to attend the finals of the tournament, I had sat down with Master Metamura and asked him to coach me on controlling my wayward energy.

It didn't go well.

I got the principles, sort of. I knew I needed to sense my energy, contain it and stop it from pouring out and surrounding me. With effort, I could even manage to do it—for about ten seconds.

It was _hard_. It went against my every instinct, and the effort of it actually seemed to burn. It was like being asked to hold my breath. I could managed it for a very short time, as long as I gave it my full attention and a concerted effort. But the moment I stopped paying attention, my energy went back to its natural state: surrounding me in a protective, anti-demon haze.

After nearly two hours of fruitless practice, I had left the hotel in frustration, forgoing shoes to run barefoot on the beach. I didn't know how long I ran, only that the sun was almost directly overhead when another figure finally appeared on the beach.

Kai did not look at me, even as I slowed my run and came to a stop a few feet away from him. His eyes were on the ocean, and his arms and legs flowed to the rhythm of the waves. I waited, expecting him to speak, but he didn't. He merely flowed.

With a sigh, I fell into place next to him and matched his movements, the way I had back in the cells in Ichigaki's lab. It was pleasant enough. It didn't consume my whole attention the way running tended to do, but with the sound of the ocean and the sun dancing on the water, the peace it offered was close.

"You mustn't let yourself get discouraged." Kai didn't stop, didn't falter as he spoke. The words flowed as easily as his hands.

"I can't help it." I focused on my own hands, their movements significantly less elegant than Kai's. "Most things come easily to me. I'm not really used to struggling like this."

It was a weakness of mine. Most things _did_ come easy. I'd never struggled with any subjects in school. I excelled in some more than others, of course, but I was above average in them all. I was decent at sports, and great at track. Whatever didn't come easy, I didn't spend any time on. It was why I didn't play many video games, or play an instrument. I wasn't much good at anything but puzzle games, and I never had the patience to struggle through the awkward early stages of picking up the violin.

"This will be good for you, then."

I felt a surge of annoyance at Kai. This shouldn't be like playing the stupid violin. It shouldn't be so _hard_. Irritated, I spat, "It's _my_ body, _my_ energy. I should be able to control it."

Kai's hands paused for the briefest of moments before resuming their flow. "That's what I used to think."

I remembered, then, that Kai had struggled for years to even sense his own energy, let alone control it. He had almost given up, before he'd encountered Master Metamura.

"I didn't mean…"

Kai finally gave up on the tai chi, standing straight and fixing me with a patient look. "This is not something that can be forced, Ren." He lifted a hand to my shoulder and gripped it gently. "You have to be patient. Learn to know yourself. Learn to know your energy. Only then can you begin to master it."

"And what if I can't?" I asked weakly. Because so far, I'd harnessed my spirit energy through sheer, blunt force of will and a stubborn drive to stay alive. If I had to change tactics, to _learn to know myself_ , I was afraid I might never get a handle on it.

Kai's eyes softened. "I know it's frightening, to not be in control," he said, the hand on my shoulder squeezing gently. "But how you view this challenge, how you choose to react to it—that _is_ in your control."

I took a second to drink that wisdom in, then huffed a breath, looking away from Kai and folding my arms across my chest. "Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are when you talk sense?"

Kai chuckled. "Maybe once or twice."

En and Ryo were debating something loudly when we returned to the suite, Metamura watching them with a patient smile.

"No, the end of a row is better," Ryo was insisting as I closed the door.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked, nodding in silent greeting to Metamura. He nodded back, looking faintly amused.

"How we're going to watch the finals tomorrow," En said resolutely. "We're not missing it, and neither are you."

"We'll go early," Ryo said quickly, rushing to outline their plan like he thought I'd object. "Find seats at the end of a row, near a wall, and we'll sit around you."

"That should cover most of your aura's radius," En interjected.

"And as for the rest of it—" Ryo shrugged carelessly, then smiled a sharp smile. "Well. I don't think any of the demons in the stands are going to pick a fight with us."

I thought about it for a moment. "Okay."

"Okay?" Both En and Ryo looked surprised that I'd agreed so readily, but all things considered, it wasn't a bad plan. And besides, they were right. I wasn't about to miss the final match of this tournament, stadium full of demons or no.

"Okay," I repeated, smiling. "It's a good strategy. Thank you."

En and Ryo smiled wide. "Okay!"

That night, we celebrated. We toasted our freedom, and the end of the tournament, and Team Urameshi's inevitable victory. There was no talk of the possibility of their loss, even though none of us had forgotten the ferocity of the opponents they'd be up against. Any other outcome just wasn't worth contemplating.

It was dark out when the sky lit up. My first thought was a shooting star, but I dismissed it immediately, first because it was far too large and bright, and second because it was flying away from the ground, up into the heavens. For a moment its passage was so bright that night turned almost to day, bathing us all in pure blue light. All five of us rushed to the suite's balcony to track its trajectory, jaws dropped in amazement.

There was something about it that itched at me. Something familiar.

"Yusuke," I said without thinking, and as soon as it left my lips I knew it was right. It was Yusuke's energy lighting up the sky like a miniature sun. It was one of the most amazing things I'd ever seen, but despite its beauty my heart suddenly felt like it was caught in a vice.

"I don't know why," En said, eyes shining wetly, "...but it makes me sad."

Ryo and Kai nodded, clearly feeling it, too. Metamura seemed the most affected. I watched as a single tear curved down his aged cheek.

"Farewell, old friend."


	10. Out With a Bang

En and Ryo's plan worked out well. The demons around us in the stands grumbled and hissed a bit when they ran into the edges of my searing energy, but they quickly backed away to a respectable distance when they realized the source. Ryo had been right. None of the demons in these stands was brave enough to pick a fight with the deadly Ichigaki team.

That did not stop them from bad-mouthing humans in general, though. As the start of the match drew nearer and the stands filled with more and more demons, there were increasingly frequent calls to _Kill all the humans!_

The match was set to start at high noon. At fifteen 'til, Juri appeared in the ring, and the noise in the stadium surged with restless energy.

Team Urameshi walked out first. Or rather, most of it did. Yusuke, Kuwabara, Kurama, and Hiei all emerged in a single line, looking grim. Genkai was conspicuously absent.

"They're fighting without a full roster, _again_?" Ryo shook his head, arms folded. "They're not taking this seriously."

Kai furrowed his brow. "Master Genkai would not miss a fight this important. Not if she was able."

"She is not able," Metamura said, so softly we almost couldn't hear him over the roar of the demons surrounding us. I turned to look at him, and he looked deeply saddened. Like he had last night, looking at Yusuke's miniature sun.

I remembered the feeling I'd had when I saw it, awe and amazement and horrible loss. Remembered Metamura's murmured farewell. I hadn't understood the words at the time, hadn't felt brave enough to question it. Now, I didn't have to. I knew.

Genkai was dead.

"When?" I felt breathless. It didn't make sense that the woman who had saved all our lives only a few days ago, who had soundly trounced not one but two demons in the semifinals, could be dead. " _How?_ "

Metamura shook his head, silently communicating that he had no answers. In the ring, Juri daintily cleared her throat into the microphone to call the stadium to attention, and I turned my attention back to the ring, still feeling distinctly off-kilter.

"Please put your hands together for everyone's favorite: Team Toguro!"

The returning champions entered. There was Toguro himself, hulking and tall, with his elder brother perched on his enormous shoulder like some sort of demented gargoyle. Behind them entered Bui, who was nearly as big as Toguro, and Karasu, who looked like he'd stepped out of a vampire flick.

It was going to be four against four, apparently. The demons in the stadium noticed, and were not happy. They grumbled. Grumbling turned to complaints, and soon they were shouting in protest, demanding that each team produce an additional fighter.

"Everyone, please calm down and I'll get to the bottom of this!" The stadium's jeers quieted while Juri consulted the rule book. "Let me see… according to the tournament rule book, each of the ten players must participate in a one on one match, assuming five matches are necessary. The first team to win three matches will be the champions."

Juri shut the rule book with a snap. "Since it _is_ the final and neither team has used their substitution, you _must_ have five or your team will forfeit!"

"They don't have five," I realized aloud, with dread. We knew they didn't have an alternate—Ryo had volunteered to fill in after we lost our own match to Team Urameshi, and been rejected because all their fighters were still alive. Now Genkai was dead, and they needed _someone_.

"They would have thought to get a replacement, wouldn't they?" En sounded doubtful even as he suggested it.

"I doubt replacing Genkai was the first thing on their minds," Ryo pointed out, voice grave.

Juri was tapping her foot impatiently. "Both teams need to find another player soon, because if you don't I'll be forced to disqualify you, and that's not good!"

Team Toguro's door opened. Sakyo, the cold-eyed man we'd met the night before the tournament began, joined the team he owned by the side of the ring. The demons in the stadium murmured dubiously, but didn't dare to complain aloud for fear of angering the Toguro team. Now only Team Urameshi was in danger of being disqualified.

I clenched my teeth and eyed the rows between our seats and the ring, and all the demons between. I'd piss off a bunch of them if I went down there now, but if Yusuke's team didn't find a fifth fighter soon—

"Toguro is prepared, now present your fighter or the finals are over!"

No choice.

I shot up from my seat, ignoring my friends' protests and the hissing of the surrounding demons. I raced down the steps. Demons with brains jumped out of the way. Those who didn't suffered the consequences, skin bubbling and smoking, crying out in pain as I passed. I ignored them all, slamming into the stadium wall near the Urameshi team less than five seconds after standing.

"Yusuke!" I cupped my hands around my mouth to be heard over the rabble. Yusuke and his team turned. On seeing me, Kuwabara nearly sagged in relief. "Do you need me to come down there?"

Yusuke scowled darkly, then shouted back, "I got a replacement, he's just LATE!"

"Well, you're about to be disqualified!" Yusuke looked from me to the stadium doors, as if expecting them to open any second. He muttered something I couldn't hear, but that I guessed was a curse.

"Team Urameshi, is this or is this not your fifth fighter?" Juri demanded. "Because if she's not, I'm going to have to disqualify you."

Yusuke looked at her, and then at me, and then at the doors behind him. He cursed again, turned back to Juri, and opened his mouth, looking angry but resigned.

"Fighter Nana is not eligible to be Team Urameshi's alternate," Koto interrupted before he could speak. Then she added, cattily, "And anyone who _really_ knows the rule book would know that."

"Why not?!" Kuwabara demanded, turning to glare at the sound booth, just visible in the lowest rows of stands. I turned, too, irritation rising.

Koto held up a finger and recited the rule. "In the Dark Tournament of 1980, a contestant on one of the teams in the semifinals colluded with an opposing team to throw the match, betraying their teammates, then joined the other team as an alternate for the final round. In order to prevent future collusion between opposing teams, the tournament committee ruled that players from defeated teams are not permitted to become alternates for teams still in the running."

It was actually a rather smart rule, I thought, given the sorts of low-lives who actually wanted to fight and win in this tournament. But the rule being applied to _me_ rankled.

"I was _mind controlled_ , remember?" I hollered bitterly at the sound booth. "I couldn't have colluded with anyone, even if I _wanted_ to!"

Koto gave a dainty shrug. "Look, sweetie, I don't make the rules."

"And anyway," Juri butted in, shooting a peevish look at the sound booth, "you can't just switch. The rules say that a new player may only be brought in if an original player is dead!"

Yusuke's face darkened. "Well, about that…"

"It doesn't matter." Sakyo had lit a cigarette and looked utterly relaxed despite being surrounded by towering, deadly demons.

"Their team will never get to the fifth match, so it won't be necessary for the girl to fight." Karasu spoke silkily, and I shuddered at the sound of his voice. There was something _not right_ about him, his dark eyes glistening with malice above his mask. "I say we let her stand in. It will be amusing to watch her watch her friends die."

"Now, now, there's no need to be hasty." _Finally_ the door behind Team Urameshi opened. I eyed the man who emerged distastefully. He was already almost disastrously late, and on top of that he had a _pacifier_ in his mouth, and looked utterly unashamed about it. "I'm here."

Kuwabara jumped in surprise. "It's a giant Koenma!" I didn't understand Kuwabara's disbelief—the man looked average-sized to me.

Yusuke glowered at him. "What kept you, a diaper change?"

Koenma narrowed his eyes at the comment. "Look, Yusuke, you can cool it with the wise-cracks. I don't _have_ to be here, you know. I'm doing this as a favor." In a lofty voice he added, "Highly important people such as myself shouldn't risk their lives, but Genkai was a friend, and Toguro's a jerk."

Yusuke still looked pissed. "Well, if you're gonna be a little bitch about it, maybe Ren _should_ be down here instead of you."

"I agree," Kuwabara said, eyeing Koenma doubtfully. "Can you even fight?"

"Believe it or not, fighting isn't way up there on my list of priorities." The man flipped his vibrant red cape aside, revealing what appeared to be a jetpack. He looked inappropriately proud of his own cleverness.

"What marvelous options," Hiei drawled. "A cowardly infant, and a girl who can't even control her own power."

I flinched. That stung. It was true, but it still stung.

"Hiei," Kurama admonished him quietly, but Hiei didn't even blink, entirely unapologetic. Kuwabara, though, actually looked bolstered by Hiei's derisive comment. He turned toward me, looking hopeful.

"Hey wait, that's right! Ren, you've still got that anti-demon aura—all you'd have to do is get close to one of 'em and they'd fry! Right?"

I stared down at Kuwabara's hopeful expression, wondering how to respond to that. With a quick glance at Toguro's team, and remembering what I'd seen them do in the semifinals, I decided brutal honesty was the best way to go.

"No, Kuwabara. I'd probably die."

Kuwabara's eyes widened at the blunt pronouncement. Hiei grunted, looking half-amused, though at my words or Kuwabara's reaction I wasn't sure. Kuwabara stammered, "W-what?"

I raised a hand and began ticking off the reasons why my actually fighting any member of Team Toguro would be suicide. "Firstly, I have no idea the effect my energy would have on demons as strong as these guys. It might barely tickle them. Secondly, with my mad dash through the stands, they now _know_ that my aura is offensive to demons, and wouldn't risk getting close to me."

My third point was going to be that I had watched them in the semi-finals and didn't think I'd be able to survive long enough to outsmart a single one of them, but decided at the last second that it was not the sort of thing I should tell Kuwabara before _he_ had to fight them.

Instead I said, "The only one I'd stand a chance against is Sakyo, and as much as I'd like to wipe that sadistic smirk off his stupid face, I doubt he'd be here if there was a real possibility that he'd actually have to step into the ring."

Juri interrupted, looking thoroughly annoyed at having been ignored all this time. "Your opponents may be willing to allow you an alternate fighter, but I'm not bending any more rules! Nana cannot join Team Urameshi."

My jaw clenched, and my fingers itched to lob an orb of energy at her. Not because she'd barred me from joining Yusuke's team, but because she insisted on calling me that _stupid name_.

"Looks like you're on the team after all, Koenma." Yusuke sounded unenthused, and when he turned to me again his eyes were oddly flat. It was a worrying expression. "Thanks anyway, Ren."

"Alright!" Koto crowed into the microphone. "After much delay, we finally have ten fighters. It's been seven long days of glorious blood baths, folks, all leading up to this final match. Let's get this party started!"

With a sigh, I turned, looking at the masses of demons separating me from my friends. My gaze landed on the nearest demon, who appeared at least slightly singed and more than a little wary. I eyed him without sympathy or patience.

"Move."

This time, the crowd parted easily before me. I swept up the stairs to the stands, ignoring the glares of demons, and settled back in next to Ryo as Kurama entered the ring to face off against the shudder-inducing Karasu.

"A little warning, next time?" Ryo said when I sat, shooting me a reproving look. He and the others looked tense, and seemed to relax only marginally when I rejoined them. Not that I could blame them—my stomach was tying itself in knots as Koto finished introducing the combatants for the first round.

"Sure thing." Hoping to get Ryo to unclench his jaw, I added, "Next time I volunteer to be an alternate in the final round of a crooked demon death tournament, I promise to let you know _well_ in advance."

Ryo shot me an unamused look, but his jaw unclenched a little and his lip quirked upward the tiniest bit. "Smart ass."

I quirked my lips in response, relaxing minutely for a fraction of a second. Then Koto began the first match of the final round, and all our smiles disappeared.

I don't remember much of what happened in that final round. It might have been because of what happened after, but I don't think that's what it was. Watching Yusuke and his team fight for their lives was almost as heart-wrenching as it had been to fight in the ring myself. And, like when I fought myself, I found it hard to recall the precise sequence of events: who did what to whom, and in what order. What I remember quite clearly, though, is how watching that last round of the tournament made me feel.

The natural thing to feel while watching the fights might have been worry for my cousin and his friends, or horror at all the carnage and destruction, or sadness at all the death and chaos, and certainly I felt all of those things at various points over the course of the afternoon. But greater than all of those other emotions was my sheer _disgust_.

The whole tournament was disgusting, of course. The whole foundation of the event, demons slaughtering each other for each other's amusement and bankrolled by the worst sort of humans I'd ever had the misfortune to meet, was reprehensible. But the final match was somehow worse.

I would have liked to say that my disgust was restricted to the tournament committee and the Toguro team, but it wasn't. Beyond my worry for their welfare, I was able to admire and cheer on the performance of Hiei, then Kuwabara, then finally Yusuke. Kurama, however...

I had been frustrated at first, and worried, when Kurama took his time in his fight, holding back and assessing his opponent. But then he'd transformed again, somehow, into that taller, more powerful demon form, and still he'd dallied. It became clear then that Kurama was not simply biding his time to fully understand and counter his opponent's attacks.

He toyed with Karasu, and he _enjoyed_ it. It was disgusting to watch. It wasn't the thrill of the fight that Kurama was relishing, like Hiei and Yusuke so clearly did. It was the thrill of having prey right where you wanted it, and it very nearly proved fatal for Kurama. He lost the match because of it, and nearly lost his life.

Karasu's sadism was undeniably worse, though, and I did not grieve to see him finally die and be consumed by one of Kurama's flesh-eating plants. The battle between Hiei and Bui that followed left me more in awe and terror at the sheer power that the two wielded than anything else, but then Kuwabara fought the vile Elder Toguro brother and my feelings of disgust returned full-force.

Then, in Yusuke's final match versus Toguro, I was forced to extend my spiritual aura to protect myself and my friends from Toguro's demon energy before he could _eat our souls_ for energy. By the time Yusuke finished his battle with the Young Toguro, I was too physically and emotionally exhausted to feel much of anything I felt empty and hollow inside, as if I'd exceeded the maximum human capacity for terror and repulsion and managed to crash the system. I was just barely able to must an echo of joy and relief when it finally sank in that Yusuke had _won_ , and then again when Kuwabara hoisted himself off the ground and revealed that Toguro had not killed him after all.

When, mere moments later, Sakyo pulled out a remote and pressed a button that caused the entire stadium to tremble ominously and a pleasant woman's voice began to calmly count down to the moment when the stadium would self-destruct, I couldn't even bring myself to feel surprised.

"Stadium detonation now commencing," announced an infuriatingly serene recording. "Fifteen minutes."

"Detonation?!" En stared up at the stadium speakers with wide-eyed horror, as if he hoped that he'd misheard the recording.

Ryo hissed, fists white-knuckled at his sides. "Haven't enough people died in this stupid stadium already?"

Ever the voice of reason, Kai did not bother with anger or disbelief. "We need to get out of here."

En and Ryo straightened, then nodded quickly, and then we were running. Master Metamura was not fully recovered, but he had little trouble keeping up with our pace. Though we moved as quickly as we could, escape was made more difficult by the crowds of demons and the rubble from the bits of stadium that had already been destroyed. The most promising potential exit point was the massive hole Yusuke had blown in the walls that Sakyo had raised to keep demons from fleeing from Toguro's horrible soul-eating technique, and now the crowd of surviving demons was stampeding in that direction. With quick glances and shrugs— _no time to find another exit_ —we followed the crowd as best we could.

We wound through piles of rubble and half-destroyed corridors, following the masses of demons and hoping they'd lead to the way out. After long minutes, counted down by the still-serene recorded voice, we finally drew close to the hole that Yusuke had blown in the stadium wall. Not too close, though—the massive crowd of demons was packed tightly together, shouting loudly in anger and panic.

After a puzzled look between us, I pushed through the crowd, remorselessly watching as demons sizzled and yelped and leapt out of our path. We made it through the masses quickly, and then quickly discovered why the demons weren't escaping.

"It's blocked!" En cried, staring at our would-be exit in dismay.

The hole in the stadium wall seemed to have weakened the whole structure, and the constant rumbling accompanied by the count-down to the self-destruct sequence must have weakened it further. The wall had collapsed, with huge blocks of concrete blocking the only exit available. A few dozen demons were scratching futilely at the concrete blocks with sharp nails and claws, and one demon that resembled a toad was frantically spitting what looked to be acid on the debris. It was more effective than the mad scratching, but only barely. And it certainly wouldn't clear the rubble before—

"Stadium detonation, five minutes." Still that same serene voice. I probably would have found that annoying, if I wasn't so emotionally exhausted. As it was, I felt only a vague sense of urgency, even as a wave of panic and despair rippled over the crowd. The acid-spitting toad demon started spitting faster.

"We don't have time to find another exit," En said, voice pitched high with anxiety. Metamura put a calming hand on En's shoulder, and En glanced at him, wide-eyed.

"Then we'll just have to make one, won't we?" Ryo started rolling up his sleeves, eyes blazing with determination. We all got his meaning immediately.

En's shining angel blades appeared on his arms, spinning and crackling in anticipation. Kai slid into a ready stance, his javelin at the ready. Ryo's hands sparked with energy from his grisly claw. I held out both hands and called forth two shining golden orbs, glittering with destructive energy. Together, the four of us stalked forward to combine our attacks once more—and for the first time of our own free will.

"Move out of the way!" Ryo commanded. The demons struggling against the rubble scattered with startled cries. When they were all clear, we stood at the ready. Ryo glanced at each of us in turn. "On three. Ready? One… two… three!"

We released our energy at once. The light was blinding, and the noise was deafening, but as the light faded I saw that our combined efforts had worked. Our attacks had created an opening in the fallen rubble, wide enough for a good five or six demons to fit through at once if they were standing side by side. The demon crowd cheered, and then proceeded to push past us to sprint out through the opening as quickly as they could.

We moved aside for a moment, letting the worst and most panicked of the crowd get through before we tried to follow. I carefully scanned the figures who passed, but I didn't see any of Yusuke's team or the girls who'd come to cheer them on among the crowd.

"Stadium detonation, three minutes."

Ryo tugged on my hand, pulling my attention away from the crowd. "We've gotta go!"

Still checking the crowd over my shoulder, I followed, allowing Ryo to tug me along as En, Kai, and Master Metamura jogged ahead of us through the opening in the wall.

"Did you see Yusuke or any of the others?" I had to raise my voice to be heard over the pounding of feet and the settling of debris.

Ryo looked briefly dismayed, then shook his head determinedly. "No—but don't worry, Ren, I'm sure they got out. They beat the Toguro team, they're not about to be defeated by a collapsing building."

I nodded reluctantly. I wasn't sure I believed Ryo's assessment, but there was nothing I could do at this point if they hadn't already made it out. Still, as we reached the end of our makeshift escape tunnel, I paused, turning back one last time to scan the crowd escaping the stadium as the speaker system announced serenely that the stadium would detonate in just two minutes.

Things went a little fuzzy after that. I remember a great groaning noise, and then a startled shout. I remember Ryo's hand tightening on my wrist, and stumbling a little as he tugged me away. Then the world went oddly quiet, and my vision flashed from black to white very rapidly, like a strobe light. It was highly disorienting, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the effect.

"No, no, no, don't fall asleep." The voice was familiar, but muddled, and distant. I couldn't place it. "Open your eyes, Ren."

I obeyed. The world was all bright, blurred colors, but after a second it swam into more focus. Ryo was the one talking, mouth moving rapidly. His lips didn't quite seem to match up with his words, like a movie with messed up audio. En and Kai and Metamura were there, too, looking panicked and pale.

My first instinct was to reassure them, though I had no idea what could have them looking so panicked. We'd made it out of the stadium, after all. I drew in a breath to ask what was wrong, but it took more effort than it should have. I frowned, puzzled, and barely managed a soft wheeze.

"She's not healing herself," someone said. En, maybe? "Ren, you have to try to heal yourself."

Was I injured? I didn't feel it. I was just...tired. Nothing a little sleep couldn't cure. I let my eyes slide shut.

"She can't." Someone else. "She expended too much energy shielding us from Toguro's attacks. I'm surprised she had enough left to blast through the wall."

All the voices blended together. Faded.

The haze lifted when my spirit left my body. I was surprised at the sudden ejection—I had barely realized I was injured, let alone so close to death. But now, looking down at my body, I could see the state I was in. My hair was matted with blood, lots of it. Head wounds supposedly bled a lot, I knew, but this still looked excessive. My left arm was sticking out at an odd angle, and there was a deep gash in one of my legs.

"Figures," I muttered, peeved.

I was more annoyed than anything. I'd resigned myself to death ages ago, back in Ichigaki's lab. I didn't fear it. Hell, back then I'd _welcomed_ it. Begged for it. But now, I had so much to live for. I'd fought so hard to stay alive, to persevere through the nightmare of the last few months—and right when I was finally free, I died. Not even in battle, either, but because a bunch of rocks fell on me.

What rotten luck.

En, Ryo, and Kai were still calling my name, trying to get me to open my eyes. They must not have noticed that I'd stopped breathing. Their cries were growing more frantic the longer I didn't respond, though, and my heart twisted painfully. They'd done so much to help and protect me. My death was going to devastate them.

"What the hell?"

Their cries had drawn attention. Yusuke shoved through the crowd, followed more cautiously by his teammates and friends. At the sight of my body, Yusuke's eyes widened, then darkened with anger.

"Uh-uh, no way!" Yusuke dropped to his knees, knocking Ryo out of the way impatiently. Ryo, apparently in shock, allowed himself to be pushed aside, and merely watched wide-eyed as Yusuke shook my shoulders roughly. My body's head lolled to one side and bounced with each shake.

"WAKE UP!" Yusuke slapped my face a couple of times—to no avail, obviously.

Everyone but Yusuke seemed to get it. En had begun to cry. Ryo sat on the ground, stiff and unmoving where Yusuke had shoved him. Metamura was holding onto Kai, who looked like he might topple over. Keiko leaned heavily on Shizuru, watching Yusuke mournfully. Kuwabara looked shocked, and Yukina, next to him, looked terribly sad. A clenched jaw was the only sign that Hiei was at all affected by the sight of my corpse, but Kurama was pale and looked somewhat paine.

"Yukina, Botan, you've got healing powers, right?" Yusuke demanded.

"I'm sorry, Yusuke." Botan shook her head. She wasn't looking at Yusuke, or at my body. Strangely, her sad pink eyes actually seemed to be fixed on _me_ —spirit me, that is. "It's too late. Her spirit's left her body."

I blinked at her, then at the small, tearful crowd. Only Koenma, standing at Botan's shoulder, seemed to follow her eyes.

"Can you see me?" Koenma nodded, looking somber. Botan's head dipped the tiniest bit, her lips trembling. I balked at the moisture gathering in her eyes, feeling absurdly guilty for causing it. "Oh, come on, Botan, please don't cry."

My words had the opposite of the intended effect. Botan sniffled and then buried her face in her hands, crying in earnest.

"Well her spirit better get back _in_ her body," Yusuke snapped. "No one else is allowed to die on account of this stupid tournament! You hear me, Ren? Wake up!" His hands started to glow a soft, pale blue. He let go of my shoulders and raised his hands, like he was preparing to pound on my unbreathing chest and start performing CPR.

Koenma's eyes widened at the sight. He held out a hand, saying urgently, "Yusuke, _wait_ —"

"Wake UP!" Yusuke's hands connected, just over my heart.

I screamed.

I had felt this pain before, many times. _Seven_ times, to be precise. Yusuke's hands might as well not have stopped on my chest. It felt as if he'd punched right through me, past my body, and tangled his hands in my _soul_. It was worse than being mauled by a giant robot, worse than being pierced by a thousand needles and pumped full of poison, worse than being crushed to death by rocks.

I didn't even register that I was back in my body until I'd already socked Yusuke hard across the jaw, knocking him to the side with force. He grunted with pain, but I hardly heard it. Only then did I realize that I was still screaming. With effort, I stopped.

My heart was racing a mile a minute, and my breathing was harsh and ragged, and my soul felt _torn_ … but I was alive.

Yusuke pushed himself up, cheek red and swelling, and grinned. "Well, now I _know_ we're related." He rubbed his cheek, looking ridiculously pleased for someone who'd just been punched in the face. "Looks like coming back from the dead runs in the family."

I stared at him for a second in disbelief. Then, I laughed. It hurt terribly, but I couldn't help it. Yusuke chuckled, too, though he couldn't possibly understand just why I was laughing. I tried to get myself under control, bracing a hand on my ribs as laughter descended into pained chuckles.

When I caught my breath enough to speak, I rasped, "Kid? You have no _fucking_ idea."


End file.
